One Wrong Turn
by the-vampire-act
Summary: When Evan and Divya are taken as 'hostages', Hank, Tucker, and Boris have to track down a series of 'clues' in one massive, twisted scavenger hunt. See inside note about story authors.
1. Prequel to Madness

One Wrong Turn- Prologue

Prequel to Madness

"...Written by codename:penguin and the-vampire-act. This prologue's by me, but next chap is all hers :) R&R?"

_20 Years Ago..._

_Evan was playing in his backyard with his older brother, carelessly throwing around a football. He screamed as the football hit his head again, causing Hank to roll his eyes._

"_Grow up! It's not going to hurt you!" _

"_Then why does my head hurt?" Evan whined._

"_Fine, I'll get you some ice." Hank grumbled. With a smile from Evan, he reentered their house to retrieve the ice. _

_Evan glanced around his backyard as he waited for his brother. His eyes darted around, feeling as If something was off. Suddenly, he heard a scream and decided to follow the sound. He ran until he was against the side of someone's house, two people arguing inside._

"_Damn it! You are an idiot!" a woman yelled. _

"_You know NOTHING about me!" a man hissed back._

"_I've known you for years now; we're in a relationship. You need to tell me where you've been sneaking off to all those nights!" _

"_I don't owe you anything." he snarled. The woman gasped at her husband's attitude toward her; never before had he acted like this. Before she could say another word, he was storming out of the door. Knowing that she wasn't getting any answers, she huffed and went to her bathroom..._

_Evan followed the man behind the trees as to make sure he didn't see him. The older man stormed off into an abandoned shack, immediately followed by the sounds of someone screaming and objects being tossed around._

"NO!" Evan heard someone cry out. "I-I have a son. He-his father died! I'm the only thing he has left! Please!" But her attempts were useless. As a bullet was fired at her, she stopped screaming. She limped on the floor, blood pooling out from underneath her. Evan could make out the shape of the man he had first seen as he hastily threw towels around her to soak up the blood. He cleaned up the rest of the mess before throwing them all into a bag. Once he was done cleaning up, he threw the bag into a fireplace, burning all evidence that a crime had even taken place. 

_Suddenly, the man looked out the window. Evan gasped as his eyes locked with his, suddenly fearing for his life. He took of running after that, afraid the man would also kill him. Evan didn't know if the man ever went after him, because he had taken off so quick that he didn't have time to look back..._

_When he finally reached home, Hank was glowering at him. "Where did you run off to?" he barked._

"_Oh, sorry Hank! I-I threw the football, but I lost it, so I went looking for it..." Evan stammered. _

"_Hey, relax! I was just kidding. Now put this ice on your head so we can start round two." Hank smirked. Evan groaned, unhappy to hear Hank wanted to play still. But as he put the ice on his head, he didn't think about football, rather he thought about what he had just witnessed..._

_The man in the shed quickly grabbed a carpet from his large pile of them. He spread it out on the floor and rolled the woman's dead body into it. Carefully, he picked it up and headed out to his car, where he would drive to the ocean and dump the body. _

_He wasn't worried about the kid; even if he did tell someone, he doubted they would believe him. Kids make stories up all the time. Why would a parent believe their young son if he said he had just witnessed a murder? And, anyways, he doubted the kid would actually say anything. He walked out to his car, a careless smile- no, smirk- on his face. As he drove off, he didn't even notice that the kid was still watching..._

_Evan gulped as he watched the man he had seen in the 'woods' drive off. He knew he should tell someone, but he didn't know who to tell or if anyone would believe him. Sighing, he decided to try and forget about the incident. _

_Hank noticed that Evan's ice was melting. He took the melted ice as a sign that they had both waited long enough since they played. He picked up the football and held it up so Evan could see it. He made a little motion at it, as if asking him if he was ready to play. Evan nodded with a fake smile before getting up and finally letting the ice bag fall to the ground. _

"_Go long!" _

_All through the beginning of the game, Evan's mind kept racing back to the dead body. Toward the end of the game, though, he was distracted enough to almost completely forget about it. Only for the two weeks following what Evan had witnessed did he think about what had happened. He dreamt about it for a week after that. Finally, after about a month, he had all but forgotten about- his mother's death, his father's slight depression, his brother's refusal to talk, and his own ill at-ease mind taking the murder's place in his thoughts..._

_If he could remember the murder, he would ask himself which painful memory was worse, although he didn't think he would know the answer to that question._

"...Alright, my usual pretty short prologue. Up next: the present! R&R?"


	2. To Drive in the Hamptons

**"...Written by codename:penguin..."**

Chapter 1- To Drive in the Hamptons

_Present day_

Divya sighed in satisfaction as another breath taking view of the Hamptons came into sight.

Her eyes cut sharply to her left, and she was pleased that Evan hadn't ruined the moment with his usual brash and ridiculous banter.

The dark haired Indian cautiously returned her attention back to the roadway that they were driving on. Cautiously, because she expected at any minute that Hank's baby brother was going to let the other shoe drop as to why he wanted to take her for a drive on a gorgeous looking Tuesday afternoon. The sea breeze hit her with a blast of pure bliss, tugging at her hair and flattening her already slanted eyes. She would miss this when she moved to London.

'Are you okay, Div?' the curly haired driver asked quietly. 'Are you warm enough? I can put the top up.'

Another woman would have smiled shyly at such gentlemanly concern, but the young PA reflexively began to scowl at the sound of the man's voice. Evan R. Lawson was a simple enough person to read but at times he pulled out a surprise on top of a surprise, even to her battle weary and wise to the world soul.

'Evan,' she snarled automatically, 'are you in some kind of trouble?'

The CFO of Hank Med turned to her with the same ingratiating smile that had charmed all the old biddies on the north Shore.

'Why would you even say something like that?' he inquired as innocently as a politician.

Divya snorted scornfully.

'Well, for one, you waited until Hank had left the cottage to get gas for his car before you suggested this scheme,' she remarked counting it off on her fingers, 'and two, you ARE always in some kind of trouble.'

He took his eyes off the road to stare at her.

'I am hurt,' he deadpanned, 'deeply hurt by your accusations. This is err… a friendship maintenance exercise. Aren't you the one who said I need to make friends with girls?'

The woman wriggled around uncomfortably. She was not insensitive to the underlying compliment behind his words.

'So no one is in trouble?' she pressed anxiously, wanting to believe him so that she could relax and enjoy the evening.

The long uncomfortable pause made her press her lips together in annoyance.

'Man or woman?' she snapped out.

'Woman.'

'Age?' the PA asked, already running through the contents of her handbag to see what supplies she had at hand. Damn it, they should have used her SUV.

'I am not really sure. She's not the type of woman I can ask. She gets a bit testy sometimes,' he revealed mysteriously.

'Evan, you are not helping here!' she commented sharply, reaching for her cell phone. 'Do we need Hank?'

In reply, the lean accountant snatched the phone out of her hands and tucked it neatly into his breast pocket.

Divya scowled at his overly long side burns, waiting for him to look at her again so that she could discover the truth. She wasn't aware that he was seeing anyone, and she found the thought vaguely unsettling. As PA of HankMed it was her duty to keep track of all their concerns that could have a negative impact on the business.

'Is she pregnant?' the dark haired woman blurted out in shock.

This question caused the driver to groan in disbelief.

'No, I haven't gotten anyone pregnant!' he yelled in exasperation. 'Just what on earth do you and Hank talk about when I am not around?'

Uncharacteristically, the young man slapped the steering wheel in frustration. Divya knew she should apologize, but Evan's evasive attitude was starting to get to her.

'Well, what's the problem?' she attempted to ask in what she hoped was a kindly and encouraging manner.

The man besides her shrugged, 'I've been having a tough time figuring that out. I am getting worried about her.'

Reassured now, the Indian beauty rescued her cell phone from the young accountant's hideous salmon colored shirt.

'Women are complicated creatures sometimes,' she agreed absentmindedly. 'Just find a moment when she is in a good mood and then ask her. Use the same tone of voice as you are doing now and you will be fine.'

The PA smiled indulgently at an old couple, bicycling down the lane they were driving on. It really was a beautiful evening. She was glad that she had let Evan drag her along.

'So, ARE you in a good mood now?' the man whispered tentatively.

It took a second for her to pick up what he was saying.

'Yes, I am in a good mood,' she glowered, looking for all the world as if she had just been gravely insulted.

He continued staring at her from beneath his longer than long eyelashes.

'Well I saw you smiling,' he responded hastily, 'so I thought it was safe to ask, you know?'

Divya mouth opened in surprise.

'I am worried about you. You don't seem to be talking much and you seem sad,' he added in a rush, cringing as if he expected a verbal whiplash over his shoulders at any moment. 'A nice long drive always seems to do the trick for me and Hank. I can take you back home…please, don't be mad.'

Her heart plunged as she noticed the scared look on his face. He never seemed to be bothered by the sharp edge of her personality before. In fact, she thought deep down that he rather liked it.

'No this …this is fine,' she replied graciously. 'I don't want to go home right now. I am sure there will be some wedding invitation to approve, some bridal cake to sample or some phone call that MUST be returned or else the entire wedding will be ruined.'

Evan smiled at his colleague's martyred sound of acceptance.

'This is an incredible piece of machinery,' she muttered in awe running her hands appreciatively over the butter soft seats and touching the personal control settings that created a cocoon of luxury around each person. 'Whose car is this? I thought you sold yours.'

Diyva Kitdaree was a strong woman and she was braver than him by far. It saddened the young CFO that she had to make such a choice. She deserved to be HAPPY as well as to be married.

In the meantime, he resolved to keep that smile on her face for as long as possible.

'You're very welcome,' he answered her unspoken attempt to say thank you.

As he leaned over to gently but firmly retrieve the cell phone from her limp fingers, the skinny man suddenly felt her entire body stiffen as her mouth opened in a panicked scream of denial.

It was too late.

The truck that had been driving next to them swerved over into their lane, sending them crashing in the other direction. Neither of them had time to react as the truck slammed into them one more time, finally giving them no choice but to move or be crushed.

But there were cliffs on one side and a hill on another. There was no where for them to go.

Instinctively, Evan turned the wheel over hard to try to protect his friend, knowing all along that it wasn't going to be enough.


	3. Eyes Everywhere

One Wrong Turn-Chapter 2

Eyes Everywhere

Tucker Bryant shot his father nervous glances as he quietly chewed on his steak. His father had just came home a few minutes ago saying that he wasn't leaving anymore; he was staying with him for now on, or, more likely, until Tucker went to college. He had been talking to his father practically all night (not that all night was that long; his father had came home at 9pm) about nonsense topics that he knew nothing about. He was growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment, and he wanted nothing more than to leave very badly. Trying to think of an excuse to leave, Tucker cleared his throat.

"Uh, I kinda had plans with Libby tonight. We-we were going to go to the movies tonight with a few friends." Tucker said in a small voice.

Marshal Bryant frowned, unhappy to hear that his son had to leave. "Well, I guess if you had plans, you should go with your friends tonight. We'll talk when you come back then, okay?"

"Okay." Tucker nodded as he got up, happy that his dad had bought his excuse. Tucker smiled at his father before excusing himself from the dinner table.

Marshal Bryant sighed to himself, clearly unhappy. Trying to forget that his attempt to bond with his son had failed, he absent-mindedly played with the bottle of pills in his pocket...

Dr. Hank Lawson quickly jogged over to his door as soon as he heard the familiar knock. 'Pound twice, tap once, pause, and repeat.' Hank thought with a smile. 'The usual Tucker 'Bryant Greeting'.

"What is it, Goose?" he asked.

"My-my dad came back. He says he's not leaving this time." Tucker said through his teeth, clearly trying not to let his emotions get the best of him.

"Come on, we can talk about it, okay?" Tucker nodded in response before heading in.

"What did he say?"

"He said that he was done coming back and leaving me in a worse emotional state because of his 'visits'-says he wants something more permanent for the both of us in our relationship." Tucker glanced around nervously before continuing. "And I think he's still using."

"God Tucker, I'm sorry. I thought he was clean now, but I guess there really is never a solid way of knowing." Hank replied, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Yeah well, there's really nothing we can do, you know? He still holds legal custody over me and I can't really disown my own father, you know? I just wanted to come over so I could get away from him for a few hours. I hope it's okay if I stay here for a while."

"Of course Tucker, that's fine with me." Hank said, smiling reassuringly.

''Oh did Evan, find a car?'' the young man asked looking around the dimly lit kitchen.

Hank furrowed his brows together in confusion, ''What?''

'He wanted to take Diyva for a drive but it takes a special touch to drive a Ferrari,' Tucker mused worriedly, wondering if Hank would be put out that he refused his brother one of the Byrant cars. ''Sorry Hank.''

The doctor waved this apology aside.

''Well Diyva's SUV is still here, so I assume he found a car. Oh God. I hope he didn't take one of Boris' ...Can you call Evan for me on your cell?'' Hank asked sharply. ''He has a tendency to ignore my calls when he's doing something foolish.''

Tucker smiled at these brotherly antics,as he dialed the number that Hank recited. He waited for the answer that would never come, and frowned as he realized so.

"What? He's not answering?" Hank guessed, earning a nod from the dark haired boy.

"Wanna check it out?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah; I'm going to drive around for a few. Maybe I'll spot them..."

"Hang on, I might as well come with you." Tucker said as he got ready to head out with Hank. "I'm in no hurry to go home,that is, if it's okay if I come.

"Of course Tucker, I could use the company." With that, the duo headed out for the car...

"Hank, we've been driving for a while now. If they were still on the road, I'm pretty sure we would have passed them by now." Tucker said, knowing that Evan was no where to be found.

"I know. I just want to know where the hell he is." Hank muttered. "He's going to get his ass kicked if Boris finds out he has his car."

"Maybe we should ask around. You know, see if anyone's seen him." Tucker suggested.

"Right, let's start with TuTu. She seems to always know what's going on in the Hamptons." Tucker nodded, agreeing with his choice, and braced himself as Hank pressed on the gas pedal.

Hank parked his car in front of TuTu's house. Tucker slid out of the passenger's seat, and Hank turned off the car.

"Hank, Tucker!" TuTu greeted from the porch. "What are two of my favorite men doing here?"

"Looking for my brother; he went MIA from Hank Med a few hours ago, and Divya's with him." Hank replied.

"Oh really? Huh- I saw them pass by a few minutes ago, actually. And a few minutes after they passed, I hear this terrible screeching noise a few miles up, you know, on the main strip. I didn't think nothing of it then, but do you think they might've gotten in an accident?" TuTu asked, suddenly concerned.

"Anything's possible, and the hospital wouldn't have called me- that is, if they went to the hospital- until they assessed Evan's condition. We should check it out either way. Thanks TuTu." Hank said, his worry over Evan and Divya growing with each passing minute.

"Tell me when you find anything out, even if it's just to say it wasn't them, okay?" Both men nodded before running back to their car, speeding down the street...

"Damn it, that's Boris' car!" Tucker exclaimed as they reached the corner.

"And it's tipped over the edge!" Hank added in a shocked yelp as he hopped out of his car. "Come on!" Tucker and Hank climbed over the pile of rocks and rubble that were loosened from the accident, ready to intervene at any given moment. As they squatted down near the car, they realized that no one was inside, rather an envelope was in the place of the driver's seat. Blood was smeared across it from the accident, Hank guessing that it belonged to Evan.

"What is that?" Tucker asked, grimacing at the scene.

"It's a letter addressed to me." Hank mumbled, his stomach turning up in knots. Something was really off about the whole situation, and he had a feeling that it involved all of them- Divya, Tucker, Evan, and even himself.

"Should we call the police?" Tucker asked. Hank shook his head no. He wanted to read the letter before the cops came to process it as evidence. He slid a thin sheet of paper out of the envelope and started reading the messy cursive:

"Hank,

It's been a long time since I've seen you. I guess I should explain to you that you've never met me, first off, but your brother has. He 'interfered' with something I wish he hadn't, but I guess I can't blame him; he was just a kid. That's the same reason why I didn't kill him right then, by the way. I'm willing to bet that he doesn't remember me, remember what he saw. He was so young, and it happened mere days before your mother died. But that's okay, I don't blame anyone but myself for what's about to happen. There are certain things that I should explain to you, but I can't quite yet. Just keep in mind that I have eyes on you at all time, and please, don't make me prove that to you, because we both know that I will. Please, do not contact the police or any other authority figure like that. I will then kill both of them. I know with certainty that-

"And then the letter cuts off." Hank recited.

"There's a second part somewhere." Tucker mused, thinking through what Hank had just read. "This sounds so familiar, er, not the letter itself, but the wording. It's like I've heard it before, you know? But, either way, I think we should go back to my house. If he does have eyes on you, he has eyes on me."

"You think he wants you in on it?" Hank asked, clearly not buying it.

"Got a better theory?" Tucker challenged.

"You're right. We need to find the other half of the letter." Tucker nodded in agreement and started walking back to the car when he noticed that Hank was still staring at the bloody driver's seat.

"He's with Diyva," the boy reassured the doctor this time in a reversal of their usual roles. "He'll be alright."

He smiled as he saw Tucker and Hank leave the scene. He heard their conversation, and it pleased him that they were catching on so quick. He only hoped they would be able to complete their tasks before time ran out...

He really didn't want to kill Evan and Divya, but he would if he had to.


	4. Hit and Run?

Chapter 3- Hit and run?

Boris Kuerster Von Jurgens-Ratenicz, looked down sharply as his right hand fisted uncontrollably. Furtively, he dragged the improperly functioning limb to his side to hide it from view. Not that there was anyone to notice because being with Dieter, his faithful manservant and Isaac, his equally loyal driver was as close to alone as a man could get.

As the muscle spasm eased, he found himself smiling half wistfully as the Hampton's scenic view rolled outside the window of his heavily armoured SUV. The middle-aged billionaire had noticed the symptoms of his condition were becoming more and more infrequent in the last couple of weeks. In addition, any episodes he did experience were more manageable ever since a certain short, energetic, curly haired young person had declared emphatically that he wanted to help.

The mind was certainly a strange thing.

He shook his head and closed his eyes in disbelief. He really was crazy for getting his hopes up. The most qualified doctors in the world had tried to treat his condition and failed; how was one ER doctor going to achieve all that they couldn't?

He flicked on his laptop and started to peruse the documents within that dealt with the man in question: Dr. Henry (Hank) Lawson. The man had done good work at his previous place of employment, but it was his labours here at the Hampton's that had truly been outstanding. Hank had treated his patients with courage, ingenuity, and a degree of compassion that was giving Hank MED-much to the dismay of the reclusive German-a glowing reputation that was spreading through the million dollar mansions like wildfire.

Boris had wanted to learn more about the personality of the young person guesting in his cottage. With Dieter's help he had researched the Bryant's, Newberg's and other high profile medical incidences closely and had then sought out his newest houseguest to ask a few questions on what he had learnt. Needless to say, he was astounded at the gentle rebuff directed his way by the doctor.

'Patient confidentially,' the young man had responded stonily while his idiot brother prattled on annoyingly in the background.

Boris had seen much in the world, and very few things still had the power to surprise him.

Over and over he tried to get the doctor to break, but Hank deflected all his attempts with a gentle smile.

Deep down inside, Boris suspected that Hank had already seen through his issues of trust and, with the ease of long experience in getting recalcitrant patients to co-operate, the doctor had waited him out with patience and good humour.

There were only two times that Hank had been so angry with him that the he had almost walked away.

First, when Hank had learnt he was experimenting with the drugs harvested from the sharks. That was understandable with him being a doctor and all, but the other occurrence….

Boris snorted scornfully as he closed his laptop with a sharp motion.

While the billionaire commended Hank's devotion to family, the boy...Evan R, was an albatross around the young doctor's neck. In his astute mind he had already determined that it would be best to get rid off him somehow so that Hank could focus more fully on solving HIS medical predicament.

In the meantime, Boris' eyes were drawn magnetically to the crashed vehicle on the side of the road.

'Why are we stopping?' he reprimanded the driver. 'Call the police and drive on. I do not want to be involved.'

There was a faint clicking as the intercom came to life.

'With all due respect, perhaps we should,' Isaac insisted calmly, secure in the knowledge that his employer was not one of those hot tempered socialites who would demand his head be removed for insubordination.

'And why is that?' Boris inquired just as calmly as the SUV began to reverse on the shoulder toward the crash site.

'Because it is one of ours, sir,' the chauffeur informed him.

The billionaire watched disconcertingly as his driver approached to examine the accident, cell phone pressed against one ear. His security entourage quickly followed, loaded down with medical supplies and blankets for the injured. In the background, Dieter's soft voice could be heard as he collected whatever information existed on why one of his prized Mercedes was lying in a ditch with its wheels waving helplessly in the air.

'Sir?' his manservant interjected deferentially, and Boris waved his hand in a 'please speak' motion.

'Miguel, from the mansion, has confirmed that young Mr. Lawson had borrowed the car at approximately five minutes past five this evening,' he reported, bracing himself for the emotional outburst. It had not escaped his attention that his boss had grown quite attached to the man's elder brother, Hank. 'And no, we cannot confirm at this time if Dr. Henry Lawson was with him.'

As he expected, Boris was out of the vehicle before he had even finished the sentence.

The man could feel his heart beat start to race and his mouth turn to sawdust as he ran to the overturned vehicle.

'No one's inside,' one of his security flunkies addressed him while another grabbed his shoulder and tried to tow him back towards the safety of the SUV.

With an imperious shrug, he waved the restraining arm away.

'Is that blood, on the driver's seat, Vaughn?' he asked in growing fear for what had happened.

'Yes sir,' the man confirmed, 'but if they are not here, most likely they were rescued by a passer-by or perhaps the ambulance was here already.'

'Not likely,' the billionaire remarked. 'The authorities would have contacted me already.'

The German financier's eyes roamed over the unusually large dent in the car's side, the paint transference from the other vehicle and the tell-tale skid marks on the road.

'Looks like a hit and run, sir,' Dieter mumbled supportively at his elbow, observing his employer's preoccupation.

Boris folded his arms and stared unseeingly in front of him for a long moment.

'Perhaps,' he finally conceded, now aware that his men were awaiting his orders. 'Isaac organize to have the car towed to the mansion. Dieter, contact Ms. Jill Casey at the hospital. Tell her I need to speak to her urgently but privately. The rest of you… clean up this mess!'

Dieter watched as his boss snapped out his cell phone and hit the speed dial.


	5. More Questions

One Wrong Turn-Chapter 4

More Questions

Tucker Bryant and Dr. Hank Lawson sped through the light traffic as they rushed to Tucker's house. They needed to know what the other half of the letter said, and they needed to know as soon as possible. It had become evident that Evan and Divya were in some kind of trouble, and they needed to know who and what the threat was before it was too late.

Tucker kept glancing nervously toward Hank, who seemed to have turned to stone ever since he saw the car on the highway strip. After his short spout of emotion, he finally seemed in control again, and 'in control' seemed to mean 'ignored'. Tucker just sighed, knowing now was not the time to worry about how Hank was dealing with his emotional dilemma.

"We're here." Hank announced as he pulled up in Tucker's driveway. He had reached the house a few minutes ago, but Tucker seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and not notice that. He couldn't blame the kid, though; he felt just about the same way right now- lost. Utterly,inconclusively lost.

"The mailbox is in the front." Tucker said. "I don't think the letter would be in there, but it's worth a shot, right?" 

"Yeah, putting it in the mailbox would be pretty risky; it would mean that he would have to risk being seen. But where do you think he put it, then?" Hank asked.

"Well, I think it's safe to say he's been watching us for a while and knows more about us than we think he does." Tucker replied.

"Or, at least, that's what he wants us to think." Hank pointed out. "For all we know, he only knows what the media puts out about us, like where we live, the places we visit, the people we hang out with, and stuff like that."

"The problem is that we don't know everything he knows about us, so in the meantime, I think we should act like he does know a lot, you know, just to be safe." Tucker suggested, receiving an agreeing nod from Hank.

"Alright, let's check the mailbox first, just to be safe, and then we'll search the house."

"You think he has access to our houses?" Tucker asked, fearing the answer he already knew was coming.

"We know that this man knew where Evan and Divya would be; how would he know if he wasn't watching us? I mean, their decision to go was rather quick, and it happened to today. No one knew about it until they saw them cruising by. Either way, he knew where they would be." Hank explained. Tucker nodded, trying not to show his fear. He hadn't thought about that, but now that it was offered as a choice, it was the only one that made sense: he was watching them. Sensing Tucker's uneasiness, Hank placed a supportive hand on his shoulder. "Hey, we're going to figure this out, okay?"

"Yeah Hank, I-I know." Tucker stuttered unconvincingly. Hank let it slide for the moment, knowing that they had other things to worry about before they both confronted their feelings.

"Should we split up or stay together?" Hank mused out loud, mostly talking to himself, though.

"Could we stay together?" Tucker asked timidly. There was no way in hell he was going to wander his house alone for the envelope, knowing now that they were being watched.

"Of course." he reassured. Hank couldn't recall ever seeing Tucker so scared before. Ignoring his thoughts, Hank escorted Tucker into his house...

Luckily, Tucker's father had left for a game of golf with one of his friends, so they had the house for themselves to search.

"Where should we start?" Tucker asked.

"I don't know...I guess we could start in the living room and work our way up to the bedrooms. It shouldn't be that hard to find, seeing that everything's in its place."

"Yeah, we have a maid now; my dad hates a dirty house." Tucker explained. Hank just nodded, understanding the situation.

Tucker and Hank searched the kitchen and living to no prevail. They skimmed over the basement and guest room, but the letter wasn't there. Finally, they headed upstairs to search the bed rooms.

Suddenly, Hank's phone started ringing, making both men jump. "Damn it, he's going to want to know where Evan is."

"Here, let me answer it." Tucker offered, knowing that Boris wouldn't be as mad at him as he would be with Hank.

"And how are you going to explain that you answered my phone?"

"You came over our house last night to help my father with something and left your phone over. I mean, it may not work, but it's worth a shot, right?" Tucker explained. Hank reluctantly passed this phone to Tucker, who immediately answered it.

"Hello." Tucker greeted plainly.

"Who is this? This is Dr. Hank Lawson's phone." Boris asked. "Tucker?"

"Yeah, it's Tucker." he confirmed. "Hank came over last night to help my dad settle in. He must've left it behind." he easily lied.

"What do you mean by help your dad settle in? Is he staying?"

"He's staying-for good this time. He told me he's doesn't want to keep leaving me and misses the Hamptons."

Boris was now alarmed. 'Tucker's dad was staying in the Hamptons? Oh god, not again...' Boris thought, suddenly realizing the actual reason he was staying.

"Tucker, where are you?" Boris asked.

"Uh, at my house. Why?" Tucker was now confused by the sudden worry and alarm in Boris' voice.

"Is your father home?"

"No; he's out golfing with some of his friends." Tucker replied, noticing that Boris seemed more calm- even over the phone- at that news. "What's going on, Boris?" he finally asked.

"Tucker, do you have any place to stay tonight?"

"Boris, please, just tell me what's going on!" Tucker begged.

At that moment, Hank- who had been searching Marshal's room- chose to walk back in the room. He gave Tucker a questioning look, but Tucker just mimicked it. He had no idea what was going on.

"Answer the question!" Boris barked back angerly, making Tucker jump a little. Sensing that he had made the wrong move, Boris sighed, regaining some composure. "I'm sorry Tucker, but please, would you answer the question?"

"I-I guess I could stay with Hank tonight." Tucker stuttered, still a little shaken by his sudden outburst. Hank could tell that Tucker seemed a little more nervous and scared than he had before the phone call. Something had happened, and he wanted to know why. He motioned for Tucker to give him the phone, and Tucker passed the phone to him, his hands shaking.

"Boris, what the hell is going on?" Hank asked.

"Are you actually in Tucker's home?" he asked, wanting to confirm his facts before asking new questions.

"Yes,everything that Tucker told you is true, except for the part where I left my phone over his house last night. Now tell me what's going on."

"Hank, I don't know why you were trying to avoid me, but I am glad that you did." Boris started, but Hank interrupted him.

"And why is that?"

"Because now I know that Marshal Bryant is staying in the Hamptons." he answered. "I think it would be best if Tucker stayed with you tonight, if you wouldn't mind."

"Why would that be best?" Hank asked, losing his patience with Boris very quickly.

"I can't tell you, but trust me on this Hank. I think it's the least that I've earned from you." Boris said. "In the meantime, stay where you are; I am coming over." Before Hank could protest, Boris hung up.

"Damn it!" Hank exclaimed.

"What is it?" a still shaking Tucker asked.

"I don't know, but Boris is coming over. Whatever we've gotten ourselves involved in, Boris just got sucked into it,too."

Tucker gulped. He had no idea what was going on, but he had a feeling he was deeply rooted to the whole situation...


	6. A Bad Situation

Chapter 6- A Bad Situation

Their pathetic bundle of supplies didn't look so terrible now, not after she had scoured the entire room looking for anything that could be useful. This should have made her happy, but it didn't. If anything, it made her more scared. It was obvious to her now that their accident wasn't an accident. This room had been prepared for them and their vehicular mishap was just a way to get them in here. There was a bed in one corner, blankets, sparse medical supplies, a tiny bathroom and tins upon tins of food. The woman gazed in worried dismay at the bolted door and the sturdy bars on the window, which were of course the not so pleasant aspects of their 'room'.

A soft moan from the single bed caught her attention. So great was her happiness to hear the sound that she scrambled across the carpeted floor on her hands and knees instead of taking the trouble to get up and walk across from her spot on the floor.

'Bad dream, Hank,' the boy on the bed muttered petulantly before attempting to roll over.

Divya assumed from the way Evan's eyes flew open that the young accountant had suddenly registered the pain from his injuries.

'HANK!' he howled in agony as he curled up into a tight ball of misery, clutching his stomach.

The young woman blinked back her tears. There were really good reasons why you weren't suppose to 'doctor' loved ones.

'I've got you,' she murmured comfortingly, massaging his back in large soothing circles. 'I've got you. Where does it hurt?'

'Divya?' the man asked, blinking around at the strange room in confusion. 'What happened?'

As he cautiously turned over, the PA automatically started to take his vitals in the tried and true fashion.

'We were run off the road. I don't remember anything after that. Do you?' she asked causally, as if she was commenting on the weather.

The young accountant touched his expertly bandaged forehead as he squinted at one of the windows opposite through which sunlight filtered in weakly. 'Divya, are those bars on the window?'

To distract him, she started to prod his stomach.

'OWWW! Back off, she-devil!' he retorted angrily. 'You have the worst bed side manner in the world. I swear to God!'

The Indian beauty smiled. The energy of his response assured her that he wasn't badly hurt. Perhaps it was the sting of the air bags impacting on his stomach that was causing the pain.

Without preamble, she flipped over the edge of his jersey to see for herself.

'Hey!' he yelped, dragging the garment down hastily. 'Not on the first date, sister. And anyway, aren't you engaged or something, something.'

The woman scowled at this response.

'I am checking you for injuries,' she answered him with a roll of her eyes. Divya would never understand why the young CFO thought he was God's gift to women.

'Oh…I'm fine. You don't need to check,' he responded with a slight blush on his face at his mistake. 'Are you okay? You are not hurt?'

She shook her head before sitting at the edge of his bed.

'Evan, do you remember anything after the accident?' she queried anxiously. 'Do you know how we got here?'

The curly headed man shrugged his shoulders and winced at the effort.

'Where ARE we? This doesn't look like a hospital,' he muttered fretfully. 'Where's Hank? My stomach hurts.'

The man on the bed jumped as the woman snapped her fingers sharply in front his face. 'Evan, FOCUS!'

'Okay, okay,' he agreed quickly. 'Just don't do the finger-snappy-thing again. My head hurts, too. Do you have drugs?'

'I have Panadol,' she supplied going over to get a glass of water from a sink in the corner of the bedroom. 'Evan, please try to answer my question. It's VERY IMPORTANT!'

'I think I must have blacked out. Sorry,' he conceded, raising his body slightly to swallow the proffered medicine.

'Yuck…this is water? It tastes like rust!' he grumbled. 'When is Hank coming?'

The woman tried to laugh, but it came out as feeble at best. 'It's tap water Evan. I think living with Boris is making you soft.'

The sudden widening of his eyes made her bend over him anxiously.

'What? Show me where,' she commanded her reluctant patient.

He shook his head in tight lipped horror. The man wasn't about to reveal to this woman that he was concerned about the car he was driving; a car which he didn't actually have permission to drive. Divya might kill him before Boris had the privilege.

'Did you call Hank yet?' he whispered weakly. His stomach really hurt now. 'Why is it so cold?'

Worriedly, the woman caressed his forehead. His temperature seemed normal to her. 'Evan, where does it hurt again? I won't touch it, I promise!'

The thin man grabbed her hand and laid it gingerly over his stomach. 'Well, it's more like everywhere really, but here most of all.'

Very gently she moved her hand under the edge of his t-shirt and explored the area. Beads of sweat popped out on Evan's face.

'Divya!' he yelled out. 'Please ….please, don't do that anymore!'

The man didn't have to ask if it was bad. He could see it in her expressive face.

'Do you know that you have nice eyes? I hope Raj tells you that often,' he said bravely as he squeezed her suddenly icy cold fingers. 'Is it okay if I hold your hand? Am I breaking any Hindu pre-marriage laws or anything?'

As the man closed his eyes to rest, she curled up against his side to try and keep him warm. To hell with tradition! With the back of her hand she wiped away the tears of fear she had been struggling to conceal and very gently she cradled his too thin torso to her chest.

If help didn't come soon, their situation would progress from very bad to much worse.


	7. Everyone Lies

One Wrong Turn-Chapter 7

Everybody Lies

"Boris, I really wished you hadn't come." Hank moaned as Boris stalked through the house. Hank rolled his eyes-annoyed- as he tried his best to keep up with him. "And what are you doing, anyways?"

"Where's Tucker?" he demanded, making it obvious he was looking for the young dark-haired boy.

"Relax, I was in the bathroom." Tucker replied shakily from the doorway. Boris turned to the younger boy and looked as if he was ready to hug him.

"Oh thank god."

"What? Did I miss something?" Tucker asked, looking at Hank for answers.

"No Tucker, I just think that we should get out of here before your father comes home." Boris said.

"See, that's where we have a problem. We can't leave; not yet, anyways." Hank sighed.

"Well, why?"

"We need to find a letter before Evan and Divya are killed." Hank said as he stalked to the other side of the room, now opposite of Boris.

"Hank, I saw my car tipped over on the freeway-"

"I know Boris! I was there. That's where we found the first letter, actually."

"So there's a second letter?" Boris asked, earning a nod from Hank.

"And we need to find it soon. I don't know how much time we have before..." Hank stopped himself. He couldn't think about his brother and Divya being dead. Not now...

Boris had a feeling he knew who the author of the letters were, but he wasn't going to share his theory yet. He needed to prove to them that he was right; if he just told them now they would probably laugh in his face, especially the boy...

"Let me help, Hank. You've saved my life on many occasions, so it's really the least that I could do for you." Boris suggested.

"Boris, I don't think that's a great idea-" Hank started, but he was cut-off by Tucker.

"He's right, Hank. He could help us."

"Please, let me do this, Hank."

"Fine, but I'd like it to be on the record that I don't think getting someone else involved is a good idea."

"Where do you want me to look?" Boris asked, ignoring Hank's comment.

"Well, I'm going to check my room." Tucker commented.

"I was in the middle of checking Marshal's room, but I could always use some help. The room's huge."

"Alright, I can do that." Secretly, Boris was very happy that he was paired with Hank; he needed to find it before Hank did, and he was more than positive it was in Marshal's room.

"So it's settled." Hank sighed, obviously still on the fence about the whole arrangement.

"Alright, see you guys soon." Tucker mumbled curtly, already on his way back to his room.

Boris and Hank made their way back to Marshal's room. "I'll start with his bed and closet area." Hank offered.

"Alright, I'll check the dresser and desks."

After that, neither of them spoke. Boris tore through the drawers, looking as hard as he could for the single, glossy paper. He found old pictures of him and Tucker, looking happily at the person holding the camera. Underneath that was a thick photo album with the heading, 'Father and Son.' He raised an eyebrow at that. Had there truly been a time where Marshal and Tucker were happy? His curiosity got the best of him, and he opened up the old album. The first one was of Marshal and a women-presumably Tucker's mother- holding a baby-Tucker in their hands. They looked happy, but then again, it was easy to look happy for a few seconds. The results would forever been confound in the pages of a meaningless album. Boris decided to pocket the album, wanting to take a closer look later on.

Boris then moved to the dresser. He found an array of watches, tie clips, and an assortment of other nick-knacks. He moved to the next drawer, thumbing through the various pictures until he found what he was looking for. He smiled for a moment before he tucked away the document into the photo album.

"I don't think it's here, Hank." Boris finally spoke up.

"I know." Hank sighed.

"Come on; hopefully Tucker had some more luck than we did..."

Tucker looked around his room for what seemed like the first time. Books, letters to-and-from Libby and himself, a few organized shirts in his closets, a picture or two of his favorite bands, a lap top, and a fan hovering close to a bed. His walls were a vacant-looking color. They only reflected the bare, depressing grays and greens in his carpet. He hated the damn room; it wasn't him, and it made him feel lonely whenever he was in it.

He shook his head; he needed to concentrate on finding the second part of the letter.

Tucker started his search in his small photo album. Looking at pictures of his beloved mother was one of the things he did to calm himself whenever he was upset. He figured that if the man who had Divya and Evan had been in his house before, he had seen him flipping through the pages. When Tucker flipped it open, he smiled.

He had already found it.

Just as he pulled it out, Boris and Hank came into the room. "You found it." Hank said with a sigh of relief.

"Bring it here, Tucker. Read it to us." Boris added.

Tucker prepared himself to read the letter, having a bad feeling about its contents:

"_Tucker,_

_By now, I am certain that Boris has managed to intercede into this 'scavenger hunt', so to say. Good for him, because now the real fun begins!_

_There are a few things that I need to get done before I let Hank's little brother and his girlfriend go. And to accomplish these tasks, you have to split up. No one can work together, or I will kill them and everyone else who is participating the hunt. _

_Hank, your hunt starts in your temporary home. Boris, start at the bank where your will lays. And Tucker, stay where you are. Further instructions can be found in a similar envelope at your 'starting points'. I should warn you that as soon as you complete your task, you must wait to be contacted again. Then, the second and final round will begin,and you will all be together again. _

_I should also warn you of one other thing before we begin: Everyone lies. _

_I hope you are all ready, because the hunt starts now."_

"I don't like the sound of that." Hank mumbled. Just as Boris was about to reply, they heard the sound of a door swinging open.

"Tucker! Are you home?"

"Damn it, you guys need to leave. Here, you can climb out my window; there's a set of stairs outside, so it will be safe." The older men nodded and followed Tucker to his room.

"Tucker, please be safe, okay?" Boris asked.

"Always." Tucker reassured with a nervous smile. With that, Boris and Hank climbed out the window.

Tucker shut his door and headed downstairs. He would have to look for the letter later; right now, he needed to ward of his father's growing suspicions.

"Tucker, please sit down. There's something we have to talk about." Marshal prided.

"Alright...dad...what is it?" Tucker asked.

"It's about Boris. I think there's something you need to know that I should have told you about a long time ago."

"What is it, dad?"

"Boris is a murderer..."


	8. Misdirection

"**...Pleaz note that this takes place before Eddie R came into our lives :) R&R?..."**

Chapter 8- Misdirection

From the ground, Hank looked up to watch his co-conspirator as he descended the fire escape. He wouldn't actually call his patient his friend, but the doctor knew that Boris didn't fit completely into any one category anymore. Neither did Tucker or Libby or Tucker's dad or any of his other Hampton patients. Being a concierge doctor was far different from practicing medicine in an ER. The billionaire scrambled down the fire escape with all the panache of a man half his age.

'I didn't know you knew the Bryant's so well?' the younger man whispered apprehensively, voicing a concern that he had been harboring since the other man had joined them.

The German financier calmly stared at him, as was his habit. 'You find that when you come back here every summer, everyone knows everyone after a while.'

As they quietly ran from tree to statue to protect their 'escape' each man was lost in his own thoughts. Finally, they reached their own vehicles, and both men turned to look at the other, realizing that they would have to now part ways. Each man had been given orders so that they could fulfill the task in the sadistic game they had become embroiled in.

'I was just a man in my twenties when Tucker was born,' the billionaire mused walking in some far off memory judging by the distant look on his face. 'I remember holding him in my arms. Children grow so quickly, yes? He must be six feet tall.'

'Six feet, two inches; 147lbs,' his curly haired companion corrected him automatically, still fairly rattled with the day's events to be temporarily careless with his oath of office.

Boris slowly reached out and clasped a calming hand on the other man's shoulders. 'I had the car towed and the area cleaned. No one knows what is going on except us three. Your brother and Ms. Kidaree will remain unharmed as promised.'

The doctor breathed out a heavy sigh.

'It was a lot of blood, Boris,' he chocked out in fear. 'Granted a head wound normally bleeds a lot, so that is fine, but we should do a cat scan to make sure there isn't any damage. After this I would…'

This diagnosis might have gone indefinitely, if the billionaire's phone had not begun to beep.

'Dieter,' he said as way of greeting. The man listened for a moment before replying with a curt yes.

Hank leaned forward, unashamedly eavesdropping. With all the billionaire's resources, it was almost certain that the man had some news on who this madman was or where his two co-workers were…where his family was.

The young man blinked in shock as Boris, 'Mr. I value my privacy', activated the phone's loud speaker.

'Good evening Ms Casey,' the German said warmly.

The look of horror on Hank's face told the man clearly without words how the doctor wanted this situation to be handled.

'Boris?' the hospital administrator inquired worriedly. 'Are you alright? Do you need me? I can be at your house in 12 minutes.'

The billionaire arched a suspicious eyebrow in the young man's direction.

'I am fine Ms. Casey. Thank you for your concern,' he replied automatically. 'I was wondering if you happened to have seen young Mr. Lawson today.'

The older Mr. Lawson's eyes popped out in dismay at this question.

'No,' the woman answered in a confused tone of voice. 'Did you try Hank…I mean Dr. Lawson?'

Boris raised a calming palm towards the doctor who was trying to grab the phone.

'I don't want to trouble him as, Ms. Casey, I believe that young Evan R. Lawson has trespassed on my hospitality by hijacking one of my prized possessions.'

'Oh god,' the woman commented in shock. 'I am sure this is all just a misunderstanding. Evan's not the sharpest tool in the shed, but his loyalty to his brother is unshakeable. He knows how important you are to Hank.'

That statement made both of Boris' eyebrows rise in tandem. At a loss for words, he stared down at the smaller man in front him. Hank smiled back faintly. It was his first real smile for the evening.

'I agree Ms. Casey. This is why I am giving Evan R. some time to redeem himself, but if you see him anywhere please tell him that I am anxiously looking forward to the next time we meet. Instruct him to call Dieter at any time, day or night, in order to leave a message.'

'I will,' she agreed immediately. 'Thank you, sir. I assure you that your item will be returned. There's no need to let Hank know any of this.'

'Yes, we are in agreement,' the financier manipulated this caller smoothly. 'For Hank I am willing to look the other way.'

The eyes of the two men locked for a moment in a battle where pride, fear and friendship vied for dominance.

'Ms. Casey, if you happen to see Ms. Kidaree will you let me know? Perhaps she can assist us in prodding young Lawson in 'the path of straight and thin.'

There was a strained pause on the line, and even the doctor looked confused.

'Sir,' a hesitant voice came from the sleek mobile. 'I think the phrase you want is straight and narrow.'

'Ahh...so it is. Thank you Ms. Casey. You are very gracious. Please ask Ms. Kidaree to contact me if you see her. I know that she and Evan R. are good friends, so perhaps she will have an idea as to what can be done.'

The two men heard a small spurt of laughter from the dark haired administrator.

'You've seen it too,' she said in a conspiratorial whisper. 'I think Divya thinks we are all blind. Have a good evening sir, and thanks again for your understanding. If Hank ever finds out about this he will appreciate what you have done.'

And with that she gently hung up the phone, having no clue as to the turmoil her one time boyfriend and his family were enduring. Hank leaned against a convenient tree so great was his relief. He would have become completely unhinged if Jill had become dragged into this mess.

'Ms. Casey seems to have a unique insight into the way you think. She also appears to be aware of your…major concerns,' the billionaire remarked casually flicking a piece of imaginary lint from Hank's shoulders.

Sheepishly, the doctor hung his head.

'She asked me if you were sick and I said yes. I am sorry sir. I know it was inexcusable…'

The older man raised his hand to cut off the apology. His behavior as regarding his condition had not been entirely exemplary either, and he could hardly throw around criticisms without being a complete hypocrite.

'That is of no consequence in light of what is happening now. Let us focus on the crisis at hand,' he interjected. 'Come Hank, let us hurry.'


	9. Trust Me

One Wrong Turn-Chapter 9

Trust Me

Boris split up with Hank a few hours after calling Jill. They both agreed it was for the best; they needed to be available when they received their instructions, and they would be breaking the rules if they stayed together.

Hank waited in his guest house bed for the letter, knowing that it would arrive soon. As he looked around the room, he realized that something was out of place. A large, but light, lamp had been moved, and in its place was a small desk with a letter on top of it. 'Of course you idiot! He obviously knows where you live; what made you think it wouldn't already be here?'

Ignoring his thoughts, he got up and fingered the letters in his large but gentle hands. He flipped it over and opened it...

As soon as Boris walked into his house, he saw the letter. It was clearly displayed on his large fire mantle. He picked it up, ready to see what he had to do to keep Divya and Evan alive. When he opened the envelope, he read the letter.

Hank,

Your scavenger hunt is simple. Go to the basement of Hamptons Heritage Hospital and search for a bloody box of medical tools. Once you find them, take them and leave them where you found this letter. Don't let anyone see the box, or I will kill your brother, Divya, Tucker, and Boris. I doubt you want to be responsible for their deaths. You have until the end of the day to complete your task.

Hank reread the letter, finally taking it in and comprehending it. It was now clear to him that the write of the letter was a bad man who had used hospital equipment to hurt people. He either stole the equipment or later donated it. Either way, he had a bad feeling about the hunt. Letting out a sigh, he gathered up the courage to leave the room and start his car. Trying not to think about his acts as illegal, he jumped into his car...

Boris,

Your scavenger hunt begins in the police department. There was a box that was shipped here from New Jersey that you need to find. And destroy. Ask for help. Pay off the cops. I don't really care what you do to get the box, but I need you to get it. Then, take a picture of it before burning and after burning. I need to be sure you burned the right box, and I am not easily fooled. Then, put the pictures in this envelope and set in back where you found it. Simple enough, correct? Be aware that failure to succeed will end with Tucker, Hank, Divya, and Evan dead. I highly doubt you want to be responsible for that. You have until the end of the day to complete your task.

"Damn it!" Boris yelled, knowing that no one would hear him. Was he about to destroy the evidence of an on-going case? And if he was, why? What was the case about? The game didn't make sense, but either way, he had a feeling that what the author of the letter wanted him to do was illegal, and he also had a feeling tampering with the evidence wasn't the only thing was about to do.

Knowing he had no other choice, Boris picked up his car keys and headed out the door...

_Meanwhile ...at the Bryant house.._

"What is it, dad?" Tucker asked.

"Boris is a murderer."

"What?" Tucker didn't believe him. Boris _was not _a murderer. The very thought was ridiculous! "I-I don't believe you. I just...I just can't."

"Tucker, it was just as hard for me to accept the news. I can prove it to you, though. I can show you all the evidence that I found that convinced me."

"What evidence?"

"Boris has been stealing, ironically enough, evidence- from me and the police. I had a picture of him in a cabin. There was blood everywhere, and there was a toolbox filled with even bloodier medical tools. I took the picture as evidence, thinking that it would be too dangerous to enter the cabin. Then, I heard about a case in New Jersey. They found the same cabin and some other evidence, but they never found the toolbox. I was going to turn the picture in, but it was stolen! Tell me that this isn't all connected, son! It has to be; there's no way that this could all be a coincidence." Marshal explained as he inched closer to his son. Tucker tried to pull back, but he grabbed one of Tucker's wrists. "You know I would never lie to you, Tucker."

Something about that last statement reminded Tucker of something else, but he couldn't seem to remember just what was triggering his mind to react to the statement. Tucker made a mental note to think about it later; right now, he had other things to worry about.

"It seems to all fit together, but how do I know that you actually had that picture or that he stole the evidence from the police?" Tucker challenged.

"That's why I'm asking you to believe me, Tucker. How will the police believe me if my own son doesn't? I'm not lying to you- I never do!" Marshal snapped back defensively.

Tucker leaned back in his chair. He didn't like it when adults talked to him in 'that tone'. It scared him and made him think that they were going to hurt him, and he generally fought to remain calm after an outburst. He blamed his childhood experiences; they had taught him to fear that tone.

Marshal, like Boris earlier on, seemed to sense his son's discomfort. He leaned closer, taking his son's hand. "I'm sorry, Tucker. I know that you don't like it when I talk to you like that, but you should know that I'm not going to hurt you when I do. I'm just frustrated, is all. I wish you would have believed me when I told you Boris is a killer, but I understand that you're not ready to accept that. I understand, honestly. He seems like this great guy who stays out of the public's eye. But please, just trust me."

'Trust me.' Tucker huffed in his head. How many times had he heard his father say that? When he was five and had friends over and Marshal decided to get high; the morning before his father had told him to trust that he wouldn't get high. When he turned thirteen, the same friends came to his house to celebrate him becoming a teen. Once again, his father told him to trust that he wouldn't get high or drink, and once again, he broke his promise. When he turned fifteen, his father promised that he would be there for him when he got his driver's license. He said that they would go out for dinner at Tucker's favorite restaurant after he passed the test. His exact words were, "Trust me, Tucker. I know that I've let you down before, and I know that it may be hard for you to believe, but I will be there. This is important; you're getting your license! I want to be there for you." Surprise, surprise, he wasn't there. Tucker often wondered if he would have anyone cheering him on when he graduated- when he went to college and got a career, when he made a family and settled down.

Tucker shook his head; trying to ignore the thoughts. He didn't want to be so negative about his father, but it was so hard not to be when he had betrayed him over and over again.

"I know you mean the best dad, but please, don't ever say that again." Tucker begged, fighting back tears.

"Tucker, I know I've let you down before, but I''m a different man now. I've changed. You _have _to believe me! Boris is a murderer, and you have to stay away from him."

By this point, Tucker was pissed off, and worse of all, _hurt. _He was so sick of hearing his father's lame and heartless excuses. Now, it was his turn to raise his voice.

"No dad, I'm sick of believing you- trusting you! And Boris isn't a murderer; I just can't believe that! He's been more of a father to me than you have!"

"Now you just wait a second, young man. I am YOUR FATHER! You can't change that, no matter how much you want to. Yeah, I get it. I'm a horrible father, and you're not ready to forgive me-"

"Dad, stop RIGHT there! This is not a territorial dispute between you and Boris! This is between you and me. He has nothing to do with this!" Tucker said, standing up.

Marshal stood up and put his face right next to his son's face.

"This has everything to do with him. And I don't appreciate you defending that bastard."

His father's cold words hit Tucker hard. He just couldn't take it anymore; he had to leave before he lost his nerve. He spun around on his heels before things got out of hand. 'Again.' he added in his head.

"Where are you going!" Marshal shouted as Tucker ran out of the door. 

Tucker turned to face his father, who was now standing next to the door. "I don't think you honestly care." Tucker whispered. Without another word, Tucker left.

Marshal watched as his only son walked out the door. He sighed inwardly, knowing that what had resulted from his conversation was going to occur He could understand his son's resistance to believe him, but he knew that he had to try harder to make him believe.

And he knew just how to do it...


	10. Shelter

**Anote: I don't know much about medicine, so I will leave it to my co-author…vampy, to elaborate on Evan's injuries if she wants. TVA: That's why googled was invented. If you nice people want it, mention it in a review or I probably won't. :) **

Chapter 10 –Shelter

One eyelid peeled open and then the other.

Evan didn't want to open his eyes, but he had learned his lesson. The recent fiasco with his father had taught him that if you close your eyes to reality, bad things happened. Of course, he always thought it was figurative expression, not literal.

However, this time reality wasn't so bad.

'I didn't know you sing?' he whispered in admiration, staring down at the woman who was sitting on the carpet near the foot of his bed.

The woman had been rocking to and fro and humming some unintelligible but beautiful song to herself. Slowly, she opened her eyes and smiled up at him. The peace he saw in her eyes made him stare in awe.

'It's not a song, it's a bhajan,' she informed him in the same hushed tones, 'a prayer of praise.'

The young CFO looked around their prison pointedly. 'Did I miss the memo? What do we have to be thankful for? I am hurt; we have no cell phones and no way of getting out of here.'

She didn't bother to launch into a detailed lesson on Hinduism as she noticed the glassy and unfocused look in his eyes. With a small groan he covered his face with his hands as she checked his vitals again.

'How is it looking?' he inquired cautiously. 'Do I WANT to know what's wrong with me?'

The small kiss she pressed on his forehead answered his question.

If it was Hank here, he would have peppered him with question upon question knowing all along that his brother would never let anything bad happen to him. Not that he thought that Divya would let him suffer. He had every confidence in the woman's ability to care for him. Evan knew that the woman was doing all she could with the limited supplies she had- not because he was related to Hank, but because she was a professional who took her job seriously. It wasn't the same, though. He couldn't complain and bitch to her like he would to his brother. For some reason he wanted to be strong and brave just like she was.

'Do we have anything to eat?' he asked instead, in what he hoped was a steady voice. 'Do you have mints in your purse?'

The curly-haired man's eyes widened in shock when the woman whipped out a bowl of clear still steaming tomato soup.

'I love you Divya!' he said enthusiastically as his eyes feasted on the plate before him.

For one moment the Indian felt her stomach contract with surprise at his words, and her heart fluttered in her chest. However, she shook it off as she assisted the man in carefully inserting another pillow under his head.

Evan was just about to open his mouth to receive the first spoonful when his hand whipped out to snag her wrist in a surprisingly strong grip.

'You eat first,' he insisted chivalrously. 'I'm not hungry.'

His stomach chose that moment to rumble loudly in disagreement.

'I ate some earlier when you were asleep,' she attempted to reassure him. 'I appreciate your concern but you have to eat. Physician Assistant's orders!'

He turned his head away as she attempted to feed him the soup again.

'Are you lying to me Divya? Are you sure you have eaten?' he said soberly looking deeply into her eyes. Earlier, she has informed him of their current situation and then had retreated to a distant corner to wash her face and compose herself. 'Are you sure we have enough food for us both?'

'I am not lying…this room is like some sort of storm shelter. There's more food here than we can eat in a year!'

This was all the reassurance the CFO of Hank MED needed.

She slowly fed him a one spoonful at a time even though he sucked the spoon in his hunger.

'Slowly,' she cautioned him, and to her horror a single tear rolled down her cheek.

Panicked, Evan stopped eating.

'I am sorry,' he apologized quickly. 'Did I do something wrong? I can eat slowly!'

She waved another spoonful under his nose.

Very slowly he took the soup and swallowed just as carefully.

'You didn't do anything wrong,' she insisted trying to wipe array the tear with her sleeve but of course not succeeding. 'I am just very happy that you are eating.'

He angled his long arms around the bowl of soup to wipe away the tear with his thumb.

'Ahh…the crying when you are happy routine,' he commented with a wink at her confused and flustered expression.

And, without warning, he licked his tear stained finger.

'Oh my god Evan!' she yelled out loud. 'WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?You're injured and you can still flirt!'

This was of course the wrong thing to say as he grinned in male satisfaction. 'I know. It's a gift we Lawson men have.'

Divya pressed her lips together in annoyance and waved the spoon in front of his face with more aggression this time.

'I do NOT see Hank behaving in such an absurd manner!' she protested as her patient continued to eat.

'Do you think Hank is okay?' he whispered out a fear he had been turning over in his mind.

Frowning, the PA mopped up some soup that had spilled down the edge of the bowl.

'Why do you ask?' she inquired quickly, thinking that Evan was going to reveal something about their situation.

'It's just….' he began before falling silent.

With a little sigh the accountant plucked at the bed sheets underneath him.

'You don't know Henry like I do,' he fretted miserably. 'He's relentless…we've been missing for hours. He'll come looking for us. What if that person who drove us off the road does something bad to him?'


	11. Set in Motion

One Wrong Turn-Chapter 11

Set in Motion

Boris Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz frowned as he drove off in his car, readying himself to steal from the most unlikely place in the world: the police station. He didn't much care for what he was about to do, but he knew that he didn't have a choice. Briefly, he wondered if this was a way to take him out the picture. Perhaps the criminal master mind had already called ahead, and the police would be waiting for him with metal bracelets. The man shook off these thoughts. It didn't matter, anyways. He couldn't let anything happen to Evan or Divya or Tucker or Hank.

As he stopped for a red light, he thought about what had happened just four hours ago. Hank and himself had climbed out of Tucker's fire escape after his father came home. That worried him. He knew what Marshal was going to try to do, and he could only hope that Tucker wouldn't buy into his father's lies.

Boris pressed on his gas pedal, taking off once the light turned. He didn't know what was going to happen after he finished his assignment, but he knew it couldn't be good. He pushed the thought away, trying not to focus on the negative. Then again, what was positive in the situation he was in?

Before he knew it, Boris had his car parked in a parking space and his body was headed toward the police station. As soon as he walked into the police station he was greeted by an officer who was walking around, presumably to try to look busy. As soon as he saw Boris, though, he stopped with a deer in the headlights look and immediately offered his assistance.

"Can I help you with anything?"

"Yes, actually. I was wondering if you had any records on Mary Jules." Boris didn't offer any explanation as to why he wanted to see them, and from the look on the officer's face, he wasn't expecting one.

"Of course sir; you can just follow me and I will show you the file room."

"I am reassured that this will be confidential?"

"As always, sir." With that, the officer lead Boris into a back room.

There were many rows and shelves filled with boxes of case files in the room. Boris knew that he would never be able to find a file easily and quickly if he was actually looking for one, so he figured he could take his time.

Once the officer left, he walked out of the room and into the evidence room. Once inside, he scanned the boxes. On the right counter, he found what he was looking for. The box was clearly labeled 'New Jersey Murder-Possible Hamptons Connection?' He picked up the small box- which, in all honesty, looked more like a Tupperware container- and stuffed it into his 'laptop' case. Although he was amazed at how easily he had stolen all the evidence, he also easily believed it. Men with his reputation in the Hamptons could get away with a lot of things, including theft and murder.

When he had the box securely tucked away, he stepped back into the room with the case files. The police officer had pointed out the area where the files could be found before he had left, so Boris started with the shelf that had been pointed out. Luckily, the police officer was right. He found three files on Mary Jules- one in her maiden name and the other two with her married name. One file seemed to be about medical and family, another about financial and business, and the last one remaining was unmarked. Boris raised his eyebrows, finding it odd that none of them seemed to be criminal records, but yet they were in the police station. Boris picked up all three files and tucked them away with the evidence box.

Boris walked out of the room and out of the police station without a hinge. No one stopped him or said good bye. Feeling a little more relieved, he left without a second glance...

Tucker found himself standing on Boris' doorstep. He didn't knock or wait for someone to see him- he just stared at the large door as if it were the first time he had ever seen it. Before he had time to even think about his father's words or try to reassure himself that Boris wasn't a murderer, he heard the sound of a door knob turning. He stepped back, ready to run, when a man told him to come in. Sensing that Tucker was reluctant, the man pulled him in by the shoulder.

"I was told to expect you." the housekeeper said. Then, without another word, Tucker was handed a fairly bulky envelope.

"What is this?" Tucker asked.

"How should I know?" After the man finishes speaking, he turned on his heels and went back to cleaning.

Tucker slowly opened the envelope, taking care as to make sure he wouldn't rip its contents. Once he got it open, he read the letter:

Tucker,

Your scavenger hunt is a bit tricky, but I have confidence in you. I'm sure that you'll figure out something. For your hunt, you must fill up the small vials attached to this letter with blood- more specifically, Hank's, Boris', and your own blood. Once you complete the task, drop them inside the foldable box inside the letter and give it to the man behind the cafe where you took Libby for your first date. He'll be waiting all day long, so all you have to worry about is getting the blood there in time. Remember, you get any police involved and I'll kill them. You have until the end of the day to complete your task.

Tucker wiped a hand over his face. How was he going to get everyone's blood- especially his own? He would need medical attention to make sure that there weren't any complications due to his hemophilia, but he knew that would be risky.

Tucker knew that Boris kept vials of his blood somewhere in his house, but the problem would be finding it without raising his housekeeper's suspicions. After a quick look around, Tucker bolted into the nearest hallway- ready to start his hunt...

Hank walked into the Hamptons Heritage Hospital with a fake smiled plastered over his face. He offered a nurse he past a quick 'hello' before he finally found Jill.

"Oh, hey Hank. What can I help you with?" Jill asked.

"I was just wondering if I could take a look in the basement. Apparently, Boris thinks that I should keep a pair of inflatable pants with me in case something ever happens, and I don't know where else would have a pair."

"Well, I was about to head into a meeting, but I'm sure that you can find them yourself. I think we have a few pants left, so you can take a look."

"Thanks Jill; I owe you."

"Yeah, yeah." Jill said teasingly as she lead Hank toward the basement. 'Actually if you can ask Divya to call me, I will consider us even. Her phone keeps going to voice mail'

If it was possible Hank's grin grew even in wider.

She unlocked the door and opened it. "Be sure to lock up when you're done; you can lock it on the inside and out, so that shouldn't be a problem."

"Alright...Oh, have fun at your meeting."

"I'm sure I will." Jill laughed. With that, they parted ways.

Once Hank was inside the basement of the hospital, he immediately started searching. He pulled things off the shelf to see if anything was behind them. He doubted that they would leave it out in plain sight, and they would most likely want to keep it hidden. Hank cleared off entire shelves as he tried to find the tool box but to no prevail. Finally, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something somewhat shiny with red stains. He abandoned his shelf and moved on to the a new one. Finally, he had found the box. He shoved the toolbox into a plastic bag to make sure the blood didn't get in his bag. After putting it into his medical bag, he locked the door and left the basement...

Tucker Bryant continued searching, but he couldn't find the blood. He had looked through everything in about ten rooms until an idea finally hit him. Where would someone stash blood if they didn't want anyone to see it, but yet still have it in reach? Tucker ran up the stairs, heading toward Boris' room. He started in the private bathroom, where he got lucky. When he opened the medicine cabinet, he found a specialised high tech cooling rack -a literal _rack- _holding at least ten vials of blood. He smiled before picking one up one of the cold vials and placed it in his pocket.

But his smile vanished when he turned around. He turned at stared at the unwelcomed person behind him before realizing that he was in fact the unwelcomed person, not the other man. He inwardly shook himself, realizing that he could get in serious trouble for what he was doing.

"What did you just put in your pocket, Tucker?" Boris asked.

Tucker couldn't answer, though. So he stood where he was- frozen. As Boris leaned over to reach into his pocket, the boy gulped.

'Damn it, I am screwed!'


	12. Any Objections

Chapter ?- Any objections?

'Three days?' Evan muttered in shock. 'The wedding is going to last for three days!'

Divya nodded her head to confirm the fact.

'It is a very long process, and each part has tremendous meaning and significance to the couple,' she informed quietly. 'It's not only two people being joined but rather two families.'

'Three days!' he exclaimed again, as if this was the only part of the discussion that he could comprehend.

Divya snorted with amusement and squeezed his hand. She didn't know why they were holding hands, but it was a great comfort to feel the presence of another person with her. Granted she would have preferred not to be in this situation at all, but she had to admit that Evan's company was doing a lot to keep her calm and rationale. He was even still able to make her laugh at a time when she shouldn't be able to smile at all.

'Yes, three days Evan,' she repeated. 'With weeks of fasting and prayer before hand.'

'Wait…wait…back up woman. FASTING?' the young CFO interjected with narrowed eyes. 'The only way I am going to get through a three day wedding is with food. I was hoping there would be a good spread at this thing,' he grumbled.

'Oh there will be!' she exclaimed excitedly as all women tended to get when talking about food and housekeeping. 'There will be allo, dhall, shatine, channa and nann. All sorts of birani…'

She paused as she saw the befuddled look on her companion's face. With a little sigh she translated. 'There will be potato, split pea soup, jack fruit, chick peas, flat bread and spicy rice.'

Evan's bushy eyebrows knitted together, 'Is there a reason why I am not hearing any meat dishes?'

She bit her lip to stop herself from laughing. 'No meat or alcohol will be served.'

One would think from the look on his face that she had just uttered a string of profanity.

'You're killing me here, Div' he mumbled, distractedly passing his hand over his stomach before snatching it away.

The PA looked at his actions but made no comment. There really was nothing she could do, and she desperately tried not to think about it. Since joining HankMEd , they had never lost a single patient. In her mind she would not let herself dwell on the possibility that there was a first time for everything.

'…and all the food will be curried,' she rattled on as if she had NOT noticed him cringing in pain.

Evan blinked his eyes rapidly to try to control the look on his face.

'Yeah?' he asked weakly as the room spun around him a bit.

He was not going to throw up, he told himself. One, he wasn't sure his stomach could handle even sitting up, and two, it would freak out Divya even more than she already was. The woman was holding it together a lot better than he would if the situation was reversed. He felt humbled by her strength and determination.

He always was.

He remembered the first time they had met. She had slapped the folders on the pool table without even saying hello and proceeded to outline her plans for HankMed with all the tact of steam roller. He wasn't kidding when he said he liked this girl. Although it was more the use of her word 'coinage' at the time that made his heart skip a beat. Now, months later, he had to admit that there was more to this girl than he first thought. She was like Hank; serious, focused, caring and dedicated. Evan had supreme confidence in himself but he knew enough to be grateful that she put up with a guy like him.

'Curry?' he said, attempting to jump start the conversation or at least get her talking while the room stopped spinning.

She needlessly smoothed the cover on the bed.

'Yes…and you should only have one type,' she cautioned him. 'Mixing curries can make you sick. Don't make me have to come down to doctor you. I will be barely able to walk in that bridal sari as it is.'

Evan squeezed gently on the tiny palm nestled in his. He was unsurprised by the look of anguish on her face as she talked about doctoring and her wedding all in one sentence. If she went through with the ceremony, it was hardly likely she would ever see or hold a stereoscope again. For one minute he saw a vision of her in the dark, all alone, fiercely hugging her medicine bag to her chest.

'Do you have that part where they ask if anyone objects?' he inquired in a soft voice.

The Indian beauty smiled sadly. 'You have objections?'

At this, Evan had to scowl. 'You know I do, Divya! I have objections to anything that makes you unhappy! And you should too! How can you do this to yourself?.'

The woman hurriedly grabbed a cup of water as Evan started to cough uncontrollably.

It took a while for him to quiet down but he did. The anxious PA mopped his brow with a wet sponge to try and calm him down.

'You make a great little brother,' she commented warmly trying to distract him from the pain. 'I wonder if Hank would rent you out to me? It's just me and my big sister.'

He smiled feebly as his stomach howled at the torture it had just been subjected to.

'Sure...and you can get a special HankMEd discount, seeing as you are an employee,' he added with a wink.

The woman grinned at him, secretly amazed at how strong Evan was. His stomach must hurt like hell, but he was still finding the strength inside him to push on. 'Really? You would do that? But I might make you braid my hair or do my nails or take you shoe shopping.'

Evan's eyelids fluttered as he struggled to stay awake. Chivalrously, he lifted her hand to kiss it. 'Once I am with you, I don't care what I am doing.'

Long after he had fallen asleep Divya continued to stare at her hand-amazed that not even in sleep had Evan let go.


	13. Blood Drive

OWT-Chapter Does-it-really-matter-by-now?

Blood Drive

Boris reached over to Tucker's pocket, but he stopped himself. There was something about Tucker's behavior that made him suspicious. "Tucker, tell me what's in your pocket; I need to know."

"It's-it's a vial." Tucker stammered. "Of blood/"

"Why?" Boris asked. Tucker just shook his head, knowing that he couldn't answer that. "Is this about...?" Boris didn't want to say what it was,though, fearing that someone might overhear him.

"Yeah." That was the only response Tucker offered, one single word. Although Boris wasn't pleased with the answer, he was grateful that Tucker didn't say why he took the blood out loud, just like he hadn't.

"Understandable." Boris said with a reassuring smile. He didn't want the younger man to think that he was in trouble, seeing that he still had his hands crossed over his chest and his eyes glued to the ground- both of them being defensive postures, Boris recalled. He was used to seeing the behavior in some of his past doctors when he told them he was going to find a new doctor, but to see Tucker with the posture was something different entirely. Instead of saying that he was upset with Boris and that he could do better than he was getting credit for, the posture said that he didn't mean to cause any trouble and begged for him not to be punished. It made Boris realize that Tucker wasn't used to people caring about what he did, most likely due to his father always being gone.

Boris was snapped out of his thoughts when Tucker cleared his throat, obviously trying to get Boris' attention.

"I'll just, uh, go now..." Tucker mumbled as he crept toward the door of the bathroom. Just as he reached for the door knob, Boris grabbed his arms. Tucker visibly flinched at the movement, causing Boris to let go. He wasn't expecting the reaction. "W-what is it?"

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" Boris suggested.

"I would, but I have to go. My dad's expecting me home soon." Tucker lied.

"Alright; I suppose you should be on your way home, then."

"Thank you." Tucker replied as Boris pulled the door open. He practically ran out of the bathroom, trying to get away from the tension in the air.

"And Tucker?" Boris called out, the boy already halfway down the long hallway. Tucker turned around to look at him. "Be careful, okay?"

"Yes, of course." Tucker said, offering only a small nod as he left Boris' house.

Boris watched as the young boy left, having a bad feeling about what his letter had asked him to do...

Tucker placed the vial of blood in a safe spot in his car, heading off toward the hospital. He knew how to get Hank's blood, and he also knew how to get his own blood. He would have to make it look like an accident, of course, but that would be easy enough. As soon as he pulled up into the hospital's parking lot, he whipped his car key out of its rightful hole and examined it. Smiling a little to himself as a new idea came to him, he jabbed the key into his arm, creating a narrow cut on his arm. He grabbed the vial with his name on it and held it underneath his arm. In less than a minute, the vial was completely full. He sealed it and wiped off its sides, getting all the extra blood of the container. After putting the vial next to Boris', he shut his car door and headed off toward the hospital's entrance.

"Tucker!" he heard someone call as soon as he entered. He turned around to see a worried Jill heading toward him. "What did you do?" she asked.

"My key got jammed, so I tried to yank it out. When I pulled it, it loosened, but it was still stuck. I tried again, and, well, I got it out..." Tucker said, motioning to his arm, "but I also got cut."

"Why didn't you call Hank?" Jill asked as she lead Tucker into a vacant room.

"It just happened a few minutes ago. I was up the road at the store, so I decided to just come here. I thought it would be quicker than trying to get Hank up tot he store, you know." Tucker sighed.

"Yeah, of course." Jill muttered as she took care of his arm. "I'm glad you came. With hemophilia, you just can't take that risk. It looks like it's going to clot, so I don't think we have to worry this time, though."

The sound of a pager going off stopped Jill. She looked at it, seeing it was a signal that her help was needed.

"It's okay if you have to go. I know what to do from here." Tucker said with a reassuring smile.

"Thanks Tucker. Could you wait here for a second? I just want to make sure it clots."

"Yes, of course." With that, Jill left.

Once Tucker was sure Jill was out of sight, he got off of the bed and made his way to the room he was looking for. He entered cooled room, surprised to see that the door was wide open. He had recalled Hank telling him that the hospital had a sample of his blood for a mandatory physical to work as a doctor in the Hamptons. He quickly scanned the shelves for the vial until he found it. He pocketed it and carefully walked out of the room, trying not to be seen. Happy that his plan had worked fairly well, Tucker left the hospital without looking back...

When Tucker got home, he was happy to find that his father wasn't. He sighed in relief before heading back to his room to grab the letter that he had dropped off earlier. He put the three vials safely into their rightful box, complete with stuffing to protect the glass. Once they were in the box, he carried it back to his car, heading over to the cafe to give the box up...

Tucker nervously walked to the back of the cafe, box in hand. He walked past a group of people and hoped that one of them would say something about the box. Finally, the tall, slim man at the end of the group stepped in front of Tucker.

"Tucker Bryant?" he asked with a thick Louisiana accent.

"Yeah." he replied as he handed the box to him. The man took the box and offered Tucker a small smile. "What do I do now?" he asked.

Before he knew what was happening, a man came up behind him and put a cloth up to his mouth.

"Now you keep quiet." he snickered.

Tucker could barely make out the two shapes carrying his now limp body into a van. Once he was in, another man that was part of their little group blindfolded him. He thought it was useless, though, because he was on the verge of passing out. And as the van started moving for its parked spot, he did in fact lose consciousness. He did have time to think about one thing before passing out, though:

'I have the feeling I'll be seeing Evan and Divya soon...'


	14. Do You Want to be a Muderer?

Chapter 14- Do you want to be a murderer?

Evan let out a sigh as he stared at the ceiling.

In between sleeping and being awake he groaned, wanting desperately to stay in that fuzzy nebulous where everything was warm and safe. But something was wrong.

Oh right.

He had been kidnapped, was hurt, and was being held in some secret prison.

How could he forget?

'Div?' he whispered softly, looking around.

The emptiness in the room caused all the blood to rush over his body in a sickening wave of heat and fear.

Without conscious thought he sucked in a huge painful breath and screamed out her name into the silence.

The woman in question poked her head quickly out the bathroom, almost tripping over the towel she had wrapped hastily around her body.

'Evan! I am here here! What happened?' she yelled back.

The CFO of HankMed ogled at the woman's long legs as she sashayed out of the bathroom with a grace so typical of her people.

Divya frowned as her patient let out an inarticulate gurgle in response. Quickly she checked his vitals while beads of soapy water ran unheeded down her bare arms and legs.

'I was just taking a quick shower,' she informed him. 'Sorry that I woke you.'

Evan's eyes were glued to the sight in front of him.

'No apology necessary,' he muttered in awe following one droplet jealously with his eyes as it rolled down her neck.

She squinted at his face as she saw it flush a deep shade of red. Was this some new symptom?

'Do I get a sponge bath too?' the curly haired man piped up unexpectedly.

As if she was still fully dressed, the young PA placed her hands on her hips in annoyance. 'That's a nurse's jobs.'

He was about to attack her with a full puppy dog eyes routine when suddenly there was a noise at the door. For a moment they both stared stupidly as the bolt slid open.

Their eyes locked.

'Go!' Evan silently mouthed and the woman sped towards the bathroom for her clothes, but it was too late; a man walked in and immediately grabbed Divya's arm in a bone popping twist.

The Indian woman's jaw dropped in amazement as she came chest to chest with the most unlikely person in the world.

Naturally, Evan jerked upright, but due to his injuries, he promptly keeled over and fainted from the pain.

The man gently released the woman's arm.

'How are you?' he asked almost pleasantly, but he wasn't fooled and was ready to grab Divya's hand as she tried to land a solid crippling punch in his stomach. With an agility not typical of his age, he skipped out of her way as she tried to kick him..

Angrily, he pulled on her hair, forcing her head back and driving her to her knees.

'Be quiet woman!' he growled at her. 'Do not test me or I will hurt you.'

Divya blinked back the tears as her hair was pulled mercilessly by its roots.

'Please,' she begged their warden. 'Why are you doing this?'

'That is not of your concern,' he snapped back, staring at Evan on the bed. 'How bad are his injuries?'

In that one second, a plan coalesced in the brain of the desperate woman.

'His injuries are very bad. You have to let him go or he WILL die!' she stated passionately.

It was just a split second but it was enough. The PA saw the indecision in their captor's face.

'YOU LIE!' he roared into her face, and she turned her head to avoid the spray of angry spittle from his mouth.

Divya tried to hold on to the man's forearm to ease his grip on her hair, but it wasn't enough; she screamed out loud as the man dragged her almost ferociously across the floor to the bed.

He looked down at the white faced man lying half on, half off the bed. If his chest wasn't moving ever so slightly, the accountant could pass for a corpse.

'You're a doctor!' he shouted almost accusingly. 'Fix him! Tell me what you need and I will get it! I am not giving him up!'

'He needs to be in a hospital!' she yelled back quite defiantly for a young woman who was naked except for a small square of towel.

They couple stared at each other, he looking for lies in her face and she assessing his weak points and planning other strategies.

'Do you understand what is going to happen here?' she added quietly seeing that he finally understood the reality of the situation. 'He will die and then that will make you a murderer.'

And with impeccable timing a small bubble of blood burst at the corner of Evan's mouth.

'You will still have me as a hostage!' she pleaded with her captor as he looked around confused as his plan appeared to collapse around him. 'PLEASE!'

He looked down at her with a sneer. 'Well perhaps having him is a bit of overkill. I have someone even better to fill his place now.'

Divya's head jerked back as he slapped her smartly across the face.

The young woman could just make out the man looming over Evan on the bed before the darkness washed over in a paralyzing wave.


	15. Past and Present Sorrow

"**..I've been chewed out for inaccurate medical info before, so I am warning you now that any info I got was from google. Pleaz be kind :)..." **

One Wrong Turn-Past and Present Sorrow

Boris sighed as he snapped a picture of the evidence that he was about to burn. Then, he turned the knob on his furnace, allowing the flames to engulf the box's contents. He quickly took one last picture using his old-fashioned camera before tucking both of the small, glossy papers into their rightful envelope. He left it right where he had originally found it, just like the letter told him to. Boris turned back to the fire and stared unseeingly as the papers turned to ash.

Boris' eyes trimmed back over to his glass coffee table, where three files laid next to the envelope. He walked over toward them and picked the papers up. Then, he walked down the hallway to retrieve his keys and headed out the door. He sat the files down in the passenger seat and reached into the pocket located on the inside of his jacket. He carefully took out an old, but still glossy picture- the one had had taken from Marshal Bryant's room. Very carefully, it was tucked away into the top case file and he bent over the passenger seat and reached under the seat. He felt around for a thick book and pulled it out, placing it on top of the files. The old black book was the photo album that he had also taken from Marshal. He sighed as he stared at the papers, all of them reminders of the past- of how close he used to be to the Bryant family. He squeezed his eyes shut for a brief second, bitter memories of the past sneaking up on him...

_About 17 years ago..._

"_You know what you have to do,Marshal." Boris started as he sat down opposite of his once good friend. _

"_What is this, an intervention?" he spat back. _

"_You could say that, yes." Boris glared. "You're going to be a father soon- in a matter of weeks! You owe your future son at least that. You may think that the occasional night getting stoned and drunk is normal, but it's not. And when you have a kid on top of that, it's not only stupid- it's reckless. What if you accidentally hurt him? What if he found out about the drugs and booze?" _

"_First off, he wouldn't. And I'm not a damn junkie, Boris! How many times do I have to tell you that?" Marshal hissed. _

"_As many times as it takes to make it true." Boris shot back. "You have to stop- now." _

"_I don't have a problem, and I don't appreciate you barging into my house and accusing me of being a drug addict." _

"_I'm not accusing you- you ARE an addict! You need help, and I'm here to do just that. Please, Marshal, just hear me out." He took the silence as a sign to carry on. "You're going to be a father soon, and you're not ready for that responsibility. The occasional pill here and there needs to stop; you can't raise a kid when you're high-or drunk for that matter! You need to get this-this 'habit' of yours under control and stop it before it's too late. I cannot in good conscious let a man I know personally go about using drugs and drinking when he has a baby on the way." _

"_Well, that's too damn bad, because you're not going to stop me." Before Boris had the chance to protest, Marshal stalked out of the room. Boris jumped out of his seat and followed the fuming man. _

"_Where the hell are you going?" Boris demanded. _

"_Escorting you out." Marshal glared. "You've overstayed your welcome. I'll talk to you later- just not about this." Before Boris knew what had happened, he was standing on Marshal's front porch, the door being slammed behind him. With a final huff of frustration, he left..._

Boris covered his face in his hands as he remembered the night of Tucker's birth.

_Marshal Bryant watched as his wife held their small baby boy in her arms, smiling all the while. Tucker, they had decided to name him-breaking the 'Marshal David Bryant sequence. He was absolutely handsome, but they were both sure all parents thought that way about their children. _

_Suddenly, Mary screamed out loud, Tucker being thrown to the side. He caught the baby before he could roll even more, even if he didn't have any risk of falling of the bed. He put his hands on Mary's arm, a concerned look on his face. "Mary, what's wrong?" he asked quickly-panicked._

"_It...It...HURTS!" she yelped. _

"_Honey, what hurts? What's wrong?" When the only response he received was another scream, he beckoned for a nurse. Marshal and his son were escorted out of the room as the doctor was called in, followed shortly by a few more nurses. _

_The sound of the monitor beeping increasing startled Marshal. He held tucker closer to him as he stared inside at Mary. He knew somehow that she wasn't going to make it, and it scared him that he was right. He watched as the monitor was turned off, the doctor shaking his head, and he felt a nurse take Tucker from his arms. _

"_I'm sorry Marshal; she didn't make it." a nurse said, pushing back tears of her own. _

"_W-what? Do you...do you know what of?" _

"_She was hypertension-had high blood pressure, that is. And the strain of giving birth was just too much. I've seen this happen too many times before. I'm sorry, there's just nothing we can do in cases like this." _

"_I-I understand." Marshal sighed, tears running down his eyes. "Are you going to test Tucker?" _

"_Yes, we just want to make sure he's okay." Marshal nodded as he watched the sympathetic nurse take off with his son, leaving Marshal feeling more alone than he thought possible. Finally, not being able to take the silence anymore, he whipped out his cell phone..._

_Boris sat down next to Marshal, wearing a frown similar to Marshal's. He put a supportive hand on his friend's shoulder, not bothering telling him that it would be all right. He had just lost his wife, and now there might be something medically wrong with his son. _

_Marshal felt a little better with Boris sitting next to him. He felt less alone, but he still couldn't fight the sadness that engulfed him. _

"_Mr. Bryant?" the same nurse from before called. Boris and Marshal stood, both men a little shaken. _

"_Is...is Tucker okay?" Marshal asked. _

"_I'm sorry, but it seems your son has a disease called hemophilia..."_

_After the nurse explained the precautions they had to take with Tucker and what exactly the disease was, the nurse left Boris and Marshal to their own devices. _

_Marshal handed Tucker to Boris, the latter of which now had a confused look on their face. _

"_I'm going to, uh, blow off some steam. Could you...could you take care of Tucker tonight?" _

"_Don't do anything...more stupid...than usual." Boris warned, his words stone-cold. Marshal just nodded, already taking off to his car..._

_**Later That Night**_

_Marshal quickly took the pills he had kept hidden from his wife and mixed them with at least 6 bottles of beer chasing them. He screamed loudly and harshly, throwing the beer bottle across the room and splattering its contents against his white walls. He knocked over the glass coffee table in the living room, threw photo frames against the wall, toppled over furniture and practically everything else that got in his way. He screamed so hard that he started crying, making him feel depressed rather than angry. He finally fell to the floor, his energy completely gone, and he collapsed on the floor._

_He had officially hit rock-bottom..._

_Boris watched over Tucker as he slept, terrified that the baby would somehow hurt himself and start bleeding. He was glad that Marshal had at least let him take Tucker for the night, knowing how Marshal 'blew off steam'. _

_Suddenly, the baby started crying, and Boris rushed over to him. He picked up Tucker, who immediately stopped crying. His big brown eyes looked sad, as if he knew why he was in the situation that he was. Boris frowned; he hated seeing the boy look so sad and not being even a day old. He could only imagine how sad Tucker would be when he grew up and actually comprehended what was really going on..._

**Present Day**

Boris opened his eyes, shaking his head. He had made it his personal responsibility to take care of Tucker- to make sure that Marshal didn't hurt his son. So far, he had been lucky, and when Hank moved to the Hamptons, he knew that he had gotten extremely lucky.

Boris pushed his thoughts away and pushed his key into its rightful place. Once the car started, he pressed on the gas and headed in the direction of his 'private park'- a small strip of ocean side land he had bought for when he wanted to get away. He sighed as he finally reached the 'high way', readying himself for what he would soon find out about 'Mary Jules'...

Hank Lawson placed the medical tools back to where he had found the letter, just as he had been instructed to. He sighed; he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. Did he wait to be contacted ? Did he leave so they could get the box? He decided to leave the guest house, but not Boris' mansion.

Hank changed into a pair of shorts and a plain white t-shirt and headed off for a jog.

Little did he know that he was doing exactly what the author of the letter wanted him to...

Boris' eyes scanned through the pages of the files he had taken from the police headquarters, shaking his head as he ingested the information. Mary Jules didn't have a criminal record, something he had thought was odd. He didn't expect her to, but he didn't expect the police to three files on her. What could they be about if they weren't criminal records? After reading the bio pages, he quickly realized why they have so much information on her. As his mind processed the shocking new information about Mary Jules, his phone started ringing. He sighed, not wanting to stop his 'research'.

"Hello?" Boris greeted.

"Hey Boris." a female voice started. "I called your house phone, but Dieter said that no one was home."

"What is it, Ms. Casey?"

"I was trying to contact Hank, but I haven't been able to get a hold of him. Is he with you?" she asked.

"No, he isn't with me right now. I think he was called for a few hours ago by a very private family." Boris lied, realizing that Hank was still trying to avoid the young woman.

There was silence on the line, and Boris suddenly realized that the woman's breathing had quickened steadily throughout the conversation. He could hear her sharp pants through the wireless connection that they shared.

'Are you alright, Ms. Casey?' he pressed, starting to get worried now. Surely the administrator hadn't been drawn into this nightmare. At this rate, the entire north shore of the Hampton's would be involved.

'Sir..?' she began and he could hear the break in her voice.

The German financier sat up straight and clenched his hands around the steering wheel.

'Tell me!' he commanded her sharply. 'What happened?'

There was yelling in the background where she was. From the sounds of it, one of her patients was in trouble from the whir of the machines and the faint shouts of medical practitioners.

'It's Evan!' she shouted out over the noise. 'Someone found him in the middle of a deserted highway. Hank needs to come to the hospital. Tell him to hurry.'


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter –

'Boris!' Hank waved as he jogged down the hill.

Without even stopping fully, the billionaire threw open the passenger door and allowed the young doctor to leap inside.

Hank quickly buckled his seat belt as the man depressed the gas pedal and the sports car picked up speed.

'What's going on?' he asked turning towards the driver's seat. 'Did you get another phone call? Is it Tucker?'

The man didn't answer as he smoothly maneuvered around a trundling Winnebago to catch the lights.

'HANK!' the man more of less yelled. 'Let me drive. We need to get there in one piece, and we need to get there now. PLEASE!'

The curly-haired doctor clenched his fists together, but he obeyed. As he looked out the window he suddenly realized how recklessly- but skillfully- Boris was driving. Where did the man learn how to do this? Unconsciously, the young man held on to the car door as the financier drove through the Hamptons like a speed racer on acid.

The man roared into the little car parking lot of Hampton's Heritage before killing the engine.

They turned to face each other; the look in the man's eyes turned Hank into stone.

'Just tell me,' he whispered in fear.

Compassionately, Boris reached out one hand to comfort the other.

'They found Evan…' he began, and without an ounce of surprise on Boris' behalf, the doctor bounded out of the car as if he had been shot.

Boris didn't even bother to close and lock the vehicle as he sped after Hank. As the two men hit the lobby at a run, Jill was waiting for them with her clipboard clutched protectively against her chest. And like runners in a relay race, no one spoke as she too sprinted down the correct corridor, leading them to the room where Evan was being worked on.

Jill and Boris flanked the young doctor as he stood there staring in horror at his brother's pale face.

'No, no…no' Hank muttered softly to himself.

Jill started to cry softly as she watched him. If it was anyone else, Hank would have stepped forward and begun to scrub in, ready to assist in whatever way he could no matter how menial the task. But Hank was not stepping forward today. Today he was standing on the sidelines; today he was using all the strength he had just to stay upright.

'Doctor Blair,' Jill called out, trying to attract the surgeon's attention to give them a report.

The female surgeon held up one hand indicating that she couldn't be disturbed.

In the meantime, Boris held on to Hank's upper arm as the man began to sway. With his free hand he sent a text through to Dieter.

'Jill,' he hissed as continued texting. 'Is there anything you need for Evan?'

She shook her head.

'If there is anything you need…any piece of equipment, any doctor in the world, anything at all...my private jet is standing by to get it for you.'

Weeks later Hank would remember this generous offer that was made on his brother's behalf. But for now all his attention was focused on the nurse who just grimaced.

'We have some blood in the urine,' she informed the lead.

'Some kidney damage, you think?' the lead doctor muttered to another.

'Sounds about right…fits in with all the other readings'

'KIDNEY DAMAGE!' Hank roared out unexpectedly, causing the whole room to jump.

The entire staff turned to watch the young doctor who was dancing around on the spot.

'I have a good kidney!' he babbled on incoherently, raising his shirt and pointing to the right spot as if they didn't know the anatomy of the human body

'Jill, who is this?' one of the doctor's asked sharply. 'Get him out of here.'

'This is Dr. Hank Lawson, and he would appreciate it if he could know what is going on with his brother who is lying on your table,' she added politely but firmly.

All of a sudden Hank rushed forward, trying to get closer. Two orderlies dashed across but stopped as Boris' strong arms wounded around the man's chest, almost lifting the young man off his feet.

'Evan!' his brother called out, struggling to break free. 'I'm right here buddy. I'm coming!'

'For the love of ….' The lead doctor barked out. 'Dr. Lawson, control yourself or I will have you removed. You can stay but you must not interfere. You know you cannot assist in the procedure.'

It didn't appear as though Hank heard any of this as he reached his arms forward, trying in that way to get closer.

'EVAN!' he screamed out, willing his brother to move or just to open his eyes.

What was the last thing they had said to each other? Oh God …he couldn't even remember. Had they shared a joke, an argument …had they even said goodbye to each other? Did he just walk out of their cottage as he normally did without even looking up from his phone, anxious to get to his next patient?

Divya.

He had made fun of his brother's worry for Divya. Evan wanted to take Divya for a relaxing drive. He said that she didn't smile any more. And once again Hank had raised an eyebrow, trying to get a handle for the complex feelings his brother appeared to have for their PA.

'Henry?' a feeble voice called out.

The nurses stared down in amazement.

'He should be out, ma'am,' one of them protested vigorously. 'I gave him enough sedative to take out a rhino.'

After a moment, the lead doctor beckoned to Hank, calling him forward.

'Talk to him. Tell him to stop fighting the drugs,' the physician counseled. 'Your brother is a healthy thirty year old. He's going to be fine…but we need to get this bleeding stopped.'

Eagerly Hank crawled around the wires and tubes sticking out of his baby brother. Gently, he clasped the thin, cold hand in his larger warmer one.

'Evan?' he called pressing a small kiss on the long fingers twining in his.

'Henry…' the patient repeated in a heavily slurred voice. 'Hey…'

Hank smiled, and he could feel his vision blur in relief.

'Hey there buddy,' he responded quietly. 'You need to get some rest…you have had an adventure.'

Evan let out a small sigh.

'Div…' he whispered, 'took care ..'

'Divya took care of you,' Hank finished the sentence. 'Of course she did…she is a good friend to us.'

'We made it,' he mumbled, brow furrowed as he struggled against the pull of drugs in his system. 'Div?'

Happily Hank whipped his head around as he searched the room for the young woman, ready to fall on her neck and kiss her for taking care of Evan.

Jill shook her head as she read the question in his eyes.

Hank could hear his protective walls snap into place. The same walls he used when he was about to talk to a patient's family. The walls he used to keep from falling apart inside when he had to give a mother, a father, a sibling the worst possible news of all.

'Div?' Evan called again and, incredibly, the man rose a few inches off the bed and tried to roll to his feet.

All the staff raced forward to hold him down on the bed.

'Whoa there, tiger!' Hank said merrily. 'Let me go get her for you. She's in the ladies room.'

It was a little lie, but the older brother could feel his heart beat out of control. Could Evan even feel the way his blood raced through their joined hands?

'The first thing you are going see is her face when you wake up,' he said passionately. 'I promise you Evan. I promise.'

The boy smiled slightly at this wonderful thought, completely trusting his brother's words. The anesthesia rolled over him like a happy cloud, and he was unconscious.

'That's good' the doctors said in unison. 'Let's get him out of here. Theatre three. Dr. Lawson, you have to let go his hand now.

The staff looked around warily as Hank began to walk with the team as the cart was wheeled out.

'Dr. Lawson, PLEASE!' voices came at him, battering his mind and soul from all directions.

How could he let go? He didn't know where Divya was, but Evan was here right in front of him. He COULDN'T let go. He wasn't going to let go!

'Oh my god!' Jill yelled out as Boris pinched Hank's neck, and the short doctor collapsed like a pack of cards.

The German hauled the man effortlessly in a fireman's grip.

'Take care of Evan,' he growled at the young woman. 'I'll take care of Hank.'

The billionaire gave one last look as the trauma team disappeared from sight before ducking through the waiting room with his human cargo.

Gently he deposited the man into the front seat of the car.

The doctor would only be out for a few minutes with that little technique he had picked up in Japan. At least this way he could stop the man from hassling the surgeons as they stitched his brother back together.

Boris looked down at the files that were scattered all over the back seat.

'Mary Jules,' he muttered, picking up the case files again. 'What really happened to you? You could have helped us, I'm sure of it.' he sighed.

"May Jules is dead; you should leave what's dead, dead." a voice growled from behind him. Boris straightened up, immediately recognizing the voice. Before he could comment on it, though, a piece of white cloth was being placed against his face, making him slowly fall to the ground...


	17. The Worst Reunion in History

OWT-The Worst Reunion in History

When Tucker Bryant woke up, his vision was cloudy and his body was aching. He waited a few seconds before moving to examine himself for blood. Sighing in relief, he rested his head against a cold and dirty wall. He had no idea where he was, but he had a strong feeling that it had to do with the final stage of the scavenger hunt.

"Hello, is any one there?" he heard a very familiar voice holler. He tried to reply, but his throat was too hoarse to. He cleared it, swallowed some of his spit, and tried again.

"Yeah, I'm here!" he called back. There was a short silence before the voice answered; most likely, the person had paused to contemplate the familiarity that she also heard in the answer.

"Tucker, is that you?" she asked. And at that moment, Tucker realized who was on the receiving end of the conversation.

"Yeah Divya, it's me!"

"Are you bleeding?" Divya asked. 'Are you bleeding?' Tucker thought. 'Out of all the things I'm told or asked, that three-worded sentence has to be the one I'm asked the most'.

"I'm fine, Divya; how about you?" Tucker noticed the hesitation in Divya's voice, and for what felt like the longest of times, it was completely silent.

"I'm okay." she finally replied. "I'm coming over to find you, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Tucker sighed. He was sick of always having to be rescued….

"Just keep talking; I'm going to follow your voice."

"Smart plan." Tucker commented with a little hint of teenage sarcasm slurring his words. "You're starting to think a lot like Hank, you."

"Yes, well, I suppose that's a compliment. Hank is a very smart person." Divya laughed.

"And so are you."

Divya maneuvered around in the only slightly-lit place, trying her best to find the teenager as quickly as possible. Finally, she caught his voice again and was able to pinpoint his location. After shifting a few boxes around and opening a wooden door, she found him.

When Tucker initially saw Divya, he immediately frowned. "What happened to you?"

This time, it was Divya's turn to frown. "What do you mean?" He couldn't possibly know about what had happened just moments before- Evan being hurt, herself fighting for him, the man who had taken them hurting her, finally getting to the man and freeing Evan. She had been out for a few minutes in between and thus missing the part where Evan was officially released and the now apparent reappearance of said man and his new 'guest'. She barely recalled pulling her clothes on again…

"There are bruises on your arm, and it looks like your face made acquaintances with the floor." Tucker mumbled, obviously upset about the whole situation.

"Oh, that." she muttered. "The man who took us took Evan as well. Evan…." she stopped as her voice cracked to clear her throat. Then, with a stronger voice, she continued. "Evan was hurt,-_badly. _I-I talked him into letting Evan go, but not without a fight first."

"He hurt you." Tucker said, filling in the blanks. He shook his head; something was wrong. The man wouldn't have just let Evan go- medical emergency or not. Something had changed, and when something changed with this man, people got hurt.

Divya could tell that Tucker was hiding something, but she didn't press it. So instead, she tried her approach a different way. "I have no idea what's going on here, but I'm sure it involves Hank somehow."

"And Boris." Tucker muttered; then, he let his head bang against the wall, too tired to support its weight.

Realizing that she had started off on the wrong foot, she sighed. "You don't have to tell me anything if its going to get you in trouble…"

"It's a little late for that." Tucker responded. "And even if I do know more than you do and I do tell you about it, it won't matter. Even if we combined all the information we have together, I strongly suspect that it still won't be enough to create the big picture."

"Well, what do you know? Because, to be completely honest, I have no idea what's going on." Divya admitted.

Tucker hesitated before telling her the complete story. It wasn't a long story, but it certainly was complicated. There were blanks in-between pieces of information, dissolving any chances of piecing everything together. Plot holes and lose-ends lead to a very incomplete, in-progress story, and it was obvious to Divya that the 'author' of the story didn't know where he was heading with it. In a sense, the man who had kidnapped them was a character in Tucker's telling, but he was in fact the author of the story, and only he knew where and when everything would finally tie in together. When he reached the end of his story, Divya shook her head, now understanding Tucker's frustration.

"So we know the man who kidnapped us?" Divya asked, incredulous. The man she had seen did not look like Marhsal Bryant. And how could she not have recognized the man? Was it just the stress of the situation getting to her and blocking her from doing so? Then again, she had never seen his face; it had always been covered...

"My…my dad tried to convince me that it was Boris, but…I don't think I believe him." Tucker sighed. "I mean, he told me that Boris was a murderer- nothing else, though.."

"You think it was your dad." Divya caught on.

"How could Boris be the killer? I mean, he got a letter, too." Tucker said, nodding his head. He left the words hanging in the air, hinting to Divya that he had other reasons to believe that Boris wasn't the killer. She waited for him to continue, but he never did, so she pressed on herself.

"There's more, isn't there?"

Tucker turned his head to face Divya, a grim look on his face. "Boris is closer to my family than the Hamptons thinks. He's done a lot for my family- done a lot for me. Let's just say that I owe Boris a lot."

Tucker's unusually cold words hit him hard. Divya could sense that there was more than one hidden meaning behind the words, but before she could question their meanings, a door slammed opened and then shut. They both whipped around and stood on their feet, heading into the main room. When they reached the main room again, Tucker and Divya gasped. There was no sign of the man who had kidnapped him, but Boris and Hank lay unconscious on the floor.

"Are they okay?" Tucker asked, his breathing faltering.

"Yes, Tucker, they'll be okay." Divya reassured as she leaned over to check their vitals. "He drugged all of us when we were first kidnapped. The drugs will pass in a few minutes."

"O-okay." Tucker stuttered. Even if he knew that they would wake up, what would happen when they woke up worried him still. Sensing the boy's unease, Divya placed a reassuring hand on Tucker's arm and guided the boy down to the floor. Once they were sitting, she faced him and smiled sadly. "What?" he asked groggily.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"When was the last time _you _slept?" Tucker injected. Divya scowled at the boy, and he sighed, knowing that he had to answer. "It's been a day….or three."

"I think you should try to rest." Divya suggested. A look of panic crossed Tucker's expression before she realized his fear. "I won't let him hurt you…or Hank and Boris. It'll be okay, Tucker." The Indian woman smiled at the still reluctant child. "I promise."

If it was anyone other than Divya at that moment in time, Tucker wouldn't have believed them. He had been lied to so many times in his short 17 years of life, and trust never came easily for him. With a small nod, he slid down until his entire body was on the floor. Divya took off her somewhat thin cardigan and laid it on top of him. He whispered a weak 'thank you' before curling up into a small ball. "You're welcome." Divya whispered back. She smiled softly as she took in the boy's sleeping form, allowing herself to run a hand through his hair.

"Have you thought about having children?" a thick male voice asked from behind her. She jumped back, her smile evaporating. She turned around to find Boris sitting upright- Hank still laid out across the floor.

"Are you all right?" Divya asked, rushing to his side.

"I'm fine." Boris responded. "But a better question would be, is Tucker okay?" Boris looked concerned, more-so than Divya would have expected him to. She raised an eyebrow, earning an understanding look from Boris. "I understand that you may find my concerns for Tucker a bit odd, but he's a child, Divya. Surely you feel for him as well; I am sure that you feel just as upset at the man who has disrupted our lives like this and brought a hemophilic child into his games." Boris' voice wasn't one of questions, rather one of a statement. He knew that Divya didn't feel the same way, but he was rather suggesting she should. Understanding the hint, she nodded her head, pretending to be too concerned about Tucker's health to question Boris about his past with the Bryant family.

Boris gently tilted her head with his free hand to examine her facial bruises but didn't comment as she pulled away to curl her arms around Tucker on the floor. She was right of course, the only thing that mattered was getting Tucker out of this mess.

For about thirty minutes, Boris and Divya watched as the youngest 'hostage' slept fitfully, tossing and turning, moaning and whimpering. Every once in a while, Divya would reach out to the young boy and whispering comforting words and run a hand over his cheek. He would calm down for a few minutes, but a peaceful slumber never officially came.

Boris watched as Divya's motherly instincts kicked in. He was reassured that Tucker had been taken care of for the unknown amount of time he was alone with her, and he took comfort in the thought. He watched the two interact with a grim look on his face, knowing that the short-lived peace was just that: short lived.


	18. Everything

OWT-Everything

Tucker woke up alone, not expecting anything differently. He figured that Boris, Hank, and Divya would be trying to sort things out, but he still didn't like being alone in the hell-hole they were stuck in. He rubbed a hand over his sore and red eyes. Reluctantly, he rose from the ground and walked into the room Divya and originally found him in.

"Hey, Tucker." Divya smiled as she saw the young teen walk in the room. He managed to smile a little before he grimaced. The assembled adults frowned at the action, knowing that he was probably in pain. Before either of them could comment of it, though, Tucker started talking.

"I'm about 87% sure that my father's the killer." he sighed.

"I'm about 100% sure you're right." Boris replied, nodding his head. "And Divya and I think we know what his plan is." Tucker raised an eyebrow at the comment, but he kept quiet, thinking it best to wait for Boris and Divya to explain themselves.

"Boris said that he caught you taking a vial of blood from him. What did the letter tell you to do with it?" Divya asked.

"I needed to take a vial-sized sample of Hank's, Boris', and my own blood. Once I got the vials filled, I had to put them in a box and give them to a man behind some café. That's how I was kidnapped, too." Tucker answered.

"I had to find bloody tools from the hospital and bring them back to the guest house." Hank started. "They were in the basement of Hamptons Heritage."

"Marshal had me burn evidence that could tie him to a murder." Boris said simply. "I had to break into the police station, steal the evidence box, and take a picture of it after and before I burned it."

"Wait, what murder?" Tucker asked. "I mean, I know that he was involved in something, and murder _did_ cross my mind…."

"That's another thing we discussed this morning." Boris sighed.

"The evidence your father had Boris burn would have been more than enough to put him in jail for murder. A week after you were born, your father was in Brooklyn…buying drugs. When he was there, his drug deal went wrong, and he ended up not getting his supply. In frustration and anger, he killed his dealer's wife in an abandoned warehouse in the woods. The evidence in the box proved that." Divya explained. "The police hadn't looked at that yet, but they did know what was inside. They were ready to make an arrest, Tucker, and that's what this whole thing is about. "

"Wait, why did it take so long to make an arrest?" Hank asked, seeing as this was also his first time hearing the 'story'.

"Well, they didn't know about the cabin a few years ago. It wasn't until recently that someone had reported the cabin as being vacant and requsted it being removed. When they realized that it had been years since anyone had been in it, they got a crime lab out so no evidence would be contaminated. And, when they went inside, they found all the evidence they needed."

"So he sent us on this 'scavenger hunt' to destroy evidence and set up someone else for the murder?" Tucker asked rhetorically, knowing that he was spot-on. 'I wonder who that is going to be?'

Boris raised his hand as if he was answering a question in a classroom.

"A week before your father killed that woman, you were born and your mother died. He…he didn't take it very well, and he started using heavy-duty drugs. I tried to get him clean, but it didn't work very well. I got desperate to get him clean, so I took him to Brooklyn, where I knew there was an abandoned cabin that I could use. I took him out of New York so privacy wouldn't be an issue, and also because I knew he'd be down there for his drugs."

"So you were at the cabin a week before the murder?" Tucker asked, seeing where the conversation was going. "And he's now trying to use that as proof that you're the murderer, isn't he?"

"I believe so." Boris agreed. "When we were at the cabin, he took a picture of me. At the time, I didn't know why, but now I do. He was going to try to use it against me, but when we were at your house, I took it back. I'm sure that he has extra copies as well, but at least I have the original now." Boris added.

"We think he's trying to use the blood he had you take to plant new evidence." Divya said. "I don't yet understand why he took your blood as well as Hank's, though, but I'm sure that's somehow apart of it, too."

"What about Hank's clues?" Tucker asked.

"We think that he's going to wipe his blood off the tools and place Boris' blood on it." Hank said. "I don't know why he needs us apart of this, though. He had Divya and Evan as hostages; why would he need more?"

"It's Dad, he always has a plan." Tucker muttered. "Maybe he's going to try to frame it on both of you, and in case something backfires, he has hostages to bargain with."

"Well, maybe you should just ask me why you're here." a voice sneered from behind them. They jumped to their feet. As Marshal walked closer to them, Boris pushed Tucker behind them, letting the child stand safely in the back. "You've always been protective of my boy here, haven't you?" he slurred, obviously a little more than a bit tipsy.

"Why is he here to begin with?" Boris hissed. "He's a child; he has nothing to do with this petty fight of ours!"

"He's MY SON. I know what's best for him!" he hissed back. Then, he gave a cocky smile at his son and beckoned him with his finger. "Come here, Tucker."

"Don't." Hank whispered so only Tucker could hear him. He placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back further.

"Alright, you wanna play that way?" Marshal muttered before reaching into his pocket. He pulled out a gun and grabbed at Divya's arm. He pushed the girl down on her knees and held the gun to her head. "Give me the boy, or I WILL shoot her." he said, unnervingly calm. Bravely, Tucker agilely slipped passed the two men before they could grab him.

"Don't do it, Tucker!" Boris cautioned.

"I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let him shoot Divya." Tucker mumbled back. Without another word, he made his way to his father's side. Marshal let Divya go and practically threw her back to Boris and Hank. Hank pulled Divya back on her feet, his legs still wobbly from shock.

"Now this is what's going to happen." Marshal smiled as his right hand pulled Tucker closer to his side. "Your blood," he lifted his head to point at Hank, "will be placed on those medical tools over there. Boris' blood will be smudged over new evidence that will be further used to pin the murder of an Annabel Meed, a former wife of a pathetic, low life drug addict. Once the evidence is placed, there's no way you could possibly stop this."

"What does Tucker have to do with this? Let him go; he could be seriously hurt if your plan ends up backfiring on you!" Hank yelled.

"Tucker has _everything _to do with this. He's how I plan on starting and ending this." Marshal smiled. "And I don't plan on him getting hurt, that is, not unless someone does something stupid…."

"Let him go." Boris growled. "Whatever you're doing, you'll be able to complete this without him!"

"Oh, you see, that's where you're wrong." Marshal smirked. "You don't know what's about to happen, but I do. You're going to be going to jail for a long time, Boris, and so are you, Dr. Hank. And keep in mind that I can still kill Divya and Evan thanks to a small bug in her stomach. I implanted a bomb in their soup bowls, knowing that they'd get hungry. Oh, don't worry, though. After 48 hours, the bomb safely malfunctions- turns itself off. They were activated nine hours ago, and it will take less time than they have left to complete what needs to be done. But if I do activate the bombs? They're dead almost instantly." Marshal smiled insanely.

"You son of a-" Hank started at the man, but Boris held him back.

"Don't make him angry!"! Boris hissed.

"I'd listen to him, Hank." Marshal agreed. "It could get your brother and Divya killed."

Marshal watched as Hank plopped back down to the floor and lopped an arm around Divya. She defiantly stared down the man who held her life in his hands as if he was a disgusting cockroach. Then, without looking back, Marshal roughly grabbed Tucker's arm and half-dragged him to the door.

But Tucker stopped him.

"What are you doing?" Marshal hissed. " Get outside!"

"No." Tucker said, glaring at his father. "I'm not going anywhere."

**A/N: The stomach bomb exists. I googled it : )**


	19. Life and Death

Chapter 20- Life and death

'Mr. Lawson…' a distant voice called. 'Mr. Lawson.'

Evan blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to wake up. With a moan he clutched his stomach as his eyelids pried open.

'Dieter…what happened?' he mumbled.

The manservant rocked back on his heels as he stared down impassively at the man lying on the stone ground.

Evan tilted his head at the sound of the unfamiliar drumming coming from one of the large windows in the castle.

'I think one of the windows blew open and hit you, sir.' the man replied. 'Shall I get your brother? He should be in the hall waiting for the bride.'

The curly-haired man's jaw dropped open.

'The WHAT?' he bellowed.

Dieter helped him to his feet. 'The wedding…Ms. Kitdarree…your former Physician Associate'

Evan stood there opening and closing his mouth like a stupid goldfish. 'Huh? Former? The wedding is today?'

He looked down at his clothes-three quarter khaki cut offs and a lime green tee.

'I am not dressed!…why is that?...wait…this is crazy..' the man yelled walking briskly around in a circle, waving his hands around in his agitation. 'She doesn't want to get married. I can tell. She was all upset when she was feeding me the soup.'

Evan glanced over in shock as all his memories came flooding back. Dieter's face, as usual, was blank throughout his entire rant.

Just at that moment, Raj sped down the corridor frantically texting and reading a fax at the same time.

He stopped right in front of the accountant, looking completed frantic.

'Evan, there is a problem. Come with me,' he hissed, grabbing the young man and propelling him into the nearest room. It was a bedroom of sorts, and Raj yanked open a cupboard and started to pile his clothes into an open bag.

'I have to go to London,' the man explained. 'One of the merger's fell through…dang over priced lawyers. They can't do anything right!'

Evan was trying to concentrate, but it was kind of difficult because of the bowl of fruit artistically tied on Raj's head.

'Dude…why do you have fruit on your head?' he asked anxiously. 'It ...it doesn't really go with that three piece suit …err…you have fruit on your head dude.'

The man straightened up quickly causing a small pineapple to wobble dangerously.

'Evan, are you listening to me!' he yelled.

The CFO of Hank Med backed away, holding his arms out defensively in front of him.

'I was in an accident, Raj-me and Divya. We were being held as prisoners; there was soup… I was hurt and next thing I knew I am in a hospital being poked and prodded by truly ugly looking medical instruments.'

Raj looked over his shoulder and made compassionate noises. Generously he reached into his hat and plucked out a handful of grapes.

'You sound like you have been through the wringer. Have a grape?'

Evan took the bunch and chewed thoughtfully. 'This is a dream isn't it?'

The up and coming hotel magnate turned away to grab some more of his folders.

'I think it is, but that's not really important, is it?' the young Indian asked. "What is important is that I need you to stand in for me as the groom.'

Raj shook out a highly decorative wedding kurta in front his face.

'Don't worry,' the man reassured Evan, misinterpreting the look of horror on the other's face. 'One size fits all.'

The young accountant reached out to grab the man's slim, brown wrist.

'Are you fucking insane!' Evan yelped. 'This is your wedding. You can't do this to Divya.'

Raj patted the other on the shoulder as if comforting a two year old.

'It's going to be all right. I have it all planned….' he added with a calming and slightly unnerving grin. 'I think the real question here is why do you mind? I thought you would approve ….the bottom line before everything else.'

Evan's face crumbled and he chewed his lip as he pressed the wedding garment to his chest.

'Did you see my brother out there?' he inquired miserably.

'Yes he is having a grand time. He's in the third row on the left, you can't miss him. He's got a hat just like mine but his own has pastries in it.'

Right.

Pastry hat.

These were some SERIOUS drugs they were giving him at the hospital.

The attention of the men was caught by a loud, imperious tapping at the window.

'Oh Rajjjjjj?' a familiar female voice called gaily from the window.

The Indian was all smiles as he dashed over to the open the window for Mrs. Newburg.

'I see you got the elephant?' he commented approvingly as he ran his hands over the head of the massive animal.

The accountant's mouth fell open as he spied Mrs. Newburg in a full Indian sari astride a saddle affixed to the large gray elephant.

'Isn't he beautiful? I may just keep him! Oh hi...' the woman waved unsurely.

The curly haired man scowled.'Evan! My name is Evan.'

Even in his dream he couldn't catch a break, and he glowered as the woman floated past, the elephant giving a loud blast as if to signal its goodbye.

'Evan?' Raj continued as if the incident of the giant elephant had never occurred. The man zipped up his bags with an unnatural flourish. 'Love is not a fairy tale. The story continues on from "they lived happily ever after."

The young CFO flushed darkly at the man's patronizing tone.

'I know that...but what about Divya?' he added testily. 'You do know that she wants to continue her medicine. She's hates real estate. You are her best friend…you should know these things and dude...I don't know how to tell you this…but I just don't think she really loves….'

The Indian business man interrupted him by looking at his watch. 'Evan, I have this plane to catch.'

Raj opened his brief case and pushed an official looking form into his companion's free hand.

'Here. Get her to fill this out with her concerns and get it copied in triplicate and fax it to my office. Tell her I will get back to her next week or something. As soon as I fix this mess, I promise. Tell her she looked beautiful!'

Evan flung the groom's outfit over a chair and sat down and tightly crossed his arms and legs.' I am not filling in for you! There are crazy ideas and then there is crazy. This suggestion, falls under the latter!'

But he was yelling these words to Raj's back.

'What ever you do, decide quickly. You don't have a lot of time,' the Indian said warningly, pointing to the other's stomach.

Evan bent his head and pulled up his shirt to look at the large Scooby Doo alarm clock that was tied to his abdomen.

Perplexed, he lifted his head but he was alone. The man sat there, listening to the tassa drums outside. Hank wasn't there this time. He had to make this decision all by himself.

'Was it really in his power to delay the wedding?' he thought. 'And did he even have the right?'

Anxiously he stuffed the rest of the grapes in his mouth and chewed.

What if he was wrong? Hank made life and death decisions everyday, and he made it look so easy.

In fact, he was beginning to realize that it wasn't easy at all.

_End of dream sequence_

'Doctor, he is coming back,' one of the nurses said in relief.

The team of doctors huddled around to check the vitals for themselves.

'You gave us a scare, Mr. Lawson,' Doctor Blair muttered quietly, letting her maternal side leak out briefly.

The young mother caressed the man's curly hair almost tenderly as the police carefully maneuvered the bowl containing the small bomb out the operating theater.


	20. Defiant

**A/N: Medical info was found on Google. If it's not accurate, I apologize.**

One Wrong Turn-Defiant

"_What are you doing?" Marshal hissed. " Get outside!" _

"_No." Tucker said, glaring at his father. "I'm not going anywhere." _

Tucker stood his ground, his eyes focused on his father and a determined look on his face. He wasn't budging an inch.

"Do you remember me saying just mere seconds ago that there was a bomb in Divya and Evan's stomachs?" Marshal growled. "Do you WANT me to kill them?"

"Kill me already!" Tucker shouted back. "I'm done playing games with you! Let them go; it's obvious they're only here as a distraction for me, as a reason for me to go along with your little plan!"

Boris was about to spring to his feet as he saw the blood vessels pop out on Marshal's neck in a direct response to Tucker's behaviour. Divya grabbed his shoulder as the man waved his gun in the billionaire's direction.

"Shut the hell up!" Marshal reached across the space dividing him and his son. His hand slapped across Tucker's face- _hard. _The sudden blow sent the teenager careening to the floor. "Get your ass up! We have to go now!" When Tucker made no attempt to move, Marshal grabbed his son by his arm and pulled him up.

Divya whimpered miserably while Hank and Boris protested in loud unison from where they sat on the floor.

"NO!" Tucker shouted. He tried to fight against his father's grip, but it was too strong for him to withstand. Finally, Marshal let go, and Tucker was once again knocked to the ground. This time, Marshal turned his gun and pointed it at Divya.

The Indian woman gasped but then narrowed her eyes into thin slits of anger.

"I'll give you three more chances, Tucker. If you still decide to defy me, I'll shoot her, and if you do it again, I'll activate the bomb. If you still decide it's not worth it, Evan's bomb will go off."

It was Hank's turn to morph into a stampeding rhino, and this time Boris held on to the man's arm.

"Tucker, don't listen to him! Don't do it!" Divya shouted desperately. "I'll be fine, and so will Evan!"

"One…." Marshal started, cocking the gun and getting ready to shoot. Everyone sat paralyzed in fear at what was to going to happen next. Just as the bullet was about to leave the gun, Tucker jumped to his feet and ran the few inches there were in between himself and Divya. Just as the bullet made its way to Divya, Tucker found himself staring down the barrel of the gun. Not even two seconds later, a ripping pain shot through his stomach. He screamed as he doubled over, his arms automatically wrapping around his stomach. He felt the hot blood dripping out of his stomach. He was starting to feel dizzy and shaky from the amount of blood he was losing…

"Oh god…" he mumbled as his body collapsed to the floor. Hank quickly crawled over, assessing how serious the wound was.

"He's not going to make another five minutes." Hank said, his voice sounding serious and cold. "We have to get him to a hospital now!"

Marshal, who seemed frozen in place, just nodded his head. His body wasn't responding anymore, and the only thing he could think was 'My son is going to die, and it's all my fault.' He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he never thought Tucker was going to get hurt.

"Divya, call 911!" Hank yelled, jumping in to 'doctor mode'. Divya, who was still in shock, just nodded her head. She quickly got on her feet and started toward the person she wanted to talk to less than anyone else in the world.

Boris hovered in the background ready to intervene if Marshal raised his gun again. His concerned was unnecessary as Tucker's father cowered at the look of outrage on the woman's face. The PA was one pissed off lady!

"Marshal, if you want to help your son, you're going to have to give me your phone." Divya said, her voice sending chills down the man's spine. He fumbled in his pocket in search of his phone. Once he finally found it, he passed it to Divya. She didn't say a word as she walked away, cell phone in hand…..

In the meantime, Boris quickly searched through Marshal's pockets and with a tight look, he transferred the detonators into his own pockets. Next he removed the gun and through it across the floor, not entirely sure what else he could do with it since there wasn't safe place he could put it. He took a moment to scan the man's face, but he could see nothing threatening in his manner now. The man was completely overwhelmed by the sight of his son bleeding on the floor. Marshal was not going to be causing any trouble any time soon. With a harsh little push, Boris directed him to one of the windows.

The German finally made his way over to Hank and Tucker, who nearing unconsciousness by this point. "How much time?"

Hank took off his shirt and dabbed it at Tucker's wound, making the younger man whimper underneath him. "Hold on Tucker; I know it hurts, but there's a good chance you'll survive if you keep still. The ambulance is on its way, and the gunshot was more of a graze; it didn't tear too far back from your flesh." he reassured. Then, Hank looked up at Boris. "At best? Three minutes." Hank sighed.

"The ambulance is about four minutes behind." Divya said as she walked back to the group. "They tracked us down using the caller ID's GPS." Divya looked down at Tucker, examining the wound on his now bare stomach. If it were anyone else- like herself- she knew that they'd be fine. It was nonfatal, and it he hadn't jumped in front of her, he wouldn't be in danger of losing his life…

"Divya, it's not your fault…" Tucker managed to get out. "Don't blame yourself."

"I know." Divya whispered, choking back tears now. "It'll be all right. I won't let you die. You're my hero."

He smiled feebly as the woman bent to kiss his forehead.

'Wicked cool,' he remarked in a whisper before his eyeballs rolled into the back of his head.

"Does the ambulance know he's a hemophiliac?" Marshal asked, speaking out for the first time since Tucker was shot.

"Yeah, I made sure they knew. They pulled his blood type as well. I called Libby too, and she's on her way to the hospital with Tucker's Factor 8 supplies. The hospital is looking into getting more, but so far they've had no luck." Divya answered.

"Good." Hank nodded. "The wound may look bad-and considering the circumstances, it is- but he got lucky. If the bullet would have went all the way through or penetrate more skin and flesh, he would have been as good as dead."

"He's lucky an awful lot." Divya mumbled, thinking about all the accidents Tucker had been in and the ones he were most likely in before she even knew him.

"He's got some kind of 'good' on his side." Boris nodded, kneeling over the group protectively, still keeping a watchful eye on his old 'friend.' He couldn't wait to finally learn what all of this was about. What did Hank and Evan have to do with all of this?

"Yeah, he's got HankMed and Libby. What else could he need?" Hank said, attempting horribly to lighten up the atmosphere in there room, if not just for Tucker's sake. The kid didn't need anymore pressure and stress; something had to give.

"The ambulance is here!" Marshal shouted. He opened the door as three EMTs wheeled a gurney into the abandoned 'warehouse'. They quickly made their way over to Tucker and strapped him in to the gurney. The third EMT starting hooking a blood supply to the boy's arm as they made their way back to the ambulance.

"Are you Hank?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's me."

"You've dealt with the kid more than we have, and from what I've heard you've never had a dissatisfied client. Could you step in with us? I'd like your help with stabilizing him until we make it."

"Of course." Hank nodded. "And 2 and ½ minutes; pretty good timing."

"We heard he was a hemophiliac and rushed it. Ten seconds could be the difference between life and death for people with it." he nodded.

The EMT and Hank made their way into the ambulance before Hank got a chance to ask the man a question. "Could Divya, my physician associate, ride with us? I need her."

He had promised Evan that he would see the woman, and that was one promise that he was going to keep even if he had to carry her there on his back. Fortunately, that was not necessary as she happily hopped into the ambulance's interior. She was just as eager to get to Hampton's Heritage as everyone else was.

"We'll follow in Marshal's car." Boris said. Marshal shot Boris a worried look, questioning his antics. "He's still your son, Marshal, and you're still my friend. As long as you agree to turn yourself in after Tucker's stabilized, I won't have any problem with it."

"Of course." Marshal agreed, nodding his head. He knew that deep down he wasn't happy with being turned in, but he deserved it. He had shot his only son- his hemophilic son. On top of that, he had tried to pin a murder on Boris, someone who had tried very hard to be a good friend to him in the times when it was difficult to be a friend at all. Without saying another word, the two men climbed into Marshal's car and started following the speeding ambulance…


	21. Am I too Late?

Chapter 21- Am I too late?

Evan swallowed and grimaced at the bitter taste in his mouth. Without opening his eyes he knew where he was. NOTHING quite smelled the way a hospital did. The sound of the beeping monitors filled his ears, the cool breeze of the air conditioner washed over his exposed arms, and the sting of the IV made him nauseous.

DIVYA!

With a start, he opened his eyes and slowly smiled at the person at his bedside.

His brother looked perfectly normal from the shoulders down as he sat cross legged on the requisite uncomfortable hospital chair. However, the good doctor's head lolled back, and with an open mouth he snored happily into the other wise silent room. Evan grinned;he was glad to have his brother close. It was always like this...

The two of them…'till the wheels fell off.

The patient tried to move his hand to touch the other, but that was out of the question. He tried to call out, but that came out as a croaky rasp at best. But this was all unnecessary because, with some instinct that was old as time, Hank's eyes popped open as if he had been prodded with a cattle rod.

'Evan...wow...how are you feeling buddy?' the man asked, leaning forward to gently push some unruly curls from the other's forehead.

A sip of water was pressed to the man's lips by the concerned sibling.

'Henry….you need a shave,' Evan muttered, which made Hank smile broadly. His brother was unquenchable...nothing would take him down for long.

'You're going to be alright,' the older man whispered back, giving his brother a loud, embarrassing kiss on the cheek just like when they were boys.

'Gross,' Evan commented quietly, but the action made his eyes sparkle, and he dragged himself a few inches up the bed.

The room was beautiful-richly appointed and private. Why were so many people afraid of Hampton's Heritage? This didn't look like a 'taco stand'. This was as good as Henry's old hospital back in the city! Busy as he was plotting of how they could turn one of their guest cottage room's into a swanky recovery room, his heart dropped when he noted the continued absence of the one person he needed to see. He had been in surgery and there was no way she would not be there unless…

'Did I miss the wedding?' the boy gasped out, flinging his hand out to grasp his brother's arm, desperation making him burst through the foggy haze caused by the medicines.

Hank had a confused look on his face. 'What wedding? Evan maybe you should lie down…'

'Shut up… Divya's wedding,' he interrupted his brother's concerned response with a growl, 'that's why she's not here right?'

'Evan.'

'Just tell me…Ohmigod… she went through with it!'

'Evan!'

'…why didn't you DO something!'

Hank drew up his chair a little closer to the bed while simultaneously pushing down hard on Evan's thin chest to calm him down. At this rate all the alarms would go off and the nurses would kick him out the room.

'The wedding is in a month and half… you didn't miss it…calm down,' Hank informed him in exasperation.

He scowled as he took in the relived look on his brother's face as he stared up at the ceiling.

'Evan?' he began warningly. 'I thought we agreed to give Divya support through the wedding.'

It was quiet enough in the room to hear Evan's snort of derision.

'I am not helping you with any hare-brained scheme…' Hank started.

'I am not asking for your help,' his brother corrected him with a steely determination that made Hank sit up and take notice. 'Just for your understanding.'

After a moment, the doctor nodded his head.

'You have it…you will always have it,' he whispered back and squeezed the other's hand fiercely in his. 'Let me go get her. She's with Tucker.'

Evan's eyebrows knitted together at this.

'Tucker came to visit me?' he suggested hopefully.

The way his brother scrubbed his face tiredly told him different. 'He's okay…he's in a nice room just like this across the hall from you.'

Evan squeezed the other's hand back supportively. 'Tucker is a tough kid, mentally as well as physically.'

Hank cut his eyes back sharply to the figure lying on the bed. His brother dealt with numbers and figures all day long, but sometimes he wondered if Evan didn't have a secret side to him…a side that saw things that other people didn't see.

The doctor stepped out into the corridor and was immediately accosted by Boris.

'Is everything alright?' he wanted to know, whipping out his cell phone as if to be one step ahead if assistance was needed.

Hank raised his hands to calm him.

'He's awake and wants Divya.'

The two men surveyed the empty, dimly lit corridor.

Jill was asleep on one of the chairs close to where Evan's door was. Hank's coat was draped over her chest and her jacket was over her knees. In the middle of the corridor, however, Marshal sat with his eyes fixed on his son who he could just see through the open door that Boris had compassionately left ajar. Marshal couldn't fault the older man for not allowing him access to the boy's room. Greedily he watched as Libby stroked his son's hair and listened as Divya quietly sang from her scriptures.

At the sound of the voices though, The PA raised her head. Spying her boss in the corridor with a weary but pleased smile on his face caused her to smile too. He beckoned to her with a 'come here' gesture, and she sprung to her feet, not bothering to slip back on her shoes as she sprinted from one room to the next.

Comically Boris flattened himself against the wall to prevent himself from getting mowed over by the young woman. He raised one eyebrow at his stunned concierge doctor.

'Err…they're just friends,' he protested feebly.

The two men watched as Divya carefully maneuvered around the medical equipment to wrap herself almost vine like around the young accountant.

This time Boris snorted in amusement as he held on to the door knob and gently closed the door.

**A/N: (T/VA) You all should know there's only one chapter-chapter left, but there will be an epilogue! YAY! I'd like to thank codename:penguin for helping write this story, as I was the one who approcahed her about a collerberation(forecefully, I may add!) , and then we sprung this idea into life! Also, thnanks to all the lovely reviewers we have! You guys are amazing, and it's been a pleasure writing for you!**


	22. A Long Recovery

**A/N: The information Boris shares about the courts and various other things (mostly involving medical reasonings) were all found on Google again, so I apologize if it is inaccurate.**

One Wrong Turn- A Long Recovery….All Thanks to One Wrong Turn

'Am I dead?" was the first thought that Tucker's mind processed when he started to gain consciousness again. The blinding light he was seeing, the feeling of a familiar female hand stroking his hair, the sounds of buzzing machines and codes being called…

'I'm in a hospital; damn, that's disappointing.' He thought. 'Wait, that's supposed to be a good thing- means I'm alive, I think. Wait- why am I here in the first place? Oh right, my dad shot me. That's it- I'm taking his 'World's Best Father' mug away. And maybe his alcohol. Yeah, that seems fair. Waaaait, he shot his hemophilic son; he's going to jail for that. Oh! And the whole reason why I'm in this mess in the first place- the cops will arrest him for that too.'

"Tucker. Tucker, are you awake?" a fuzzy sound asked.

'Go the hell away! Can't you see I was just shot? It's not that fun-especially if you have hemophilia…

"Hank!" the voice shouted again.

'Libby just won't give up, will she? That's it! Libby! I wonder who told her…?' he commented in his head.

"I think he's awake." She said, wiping back happy tears.

"Yeah, he's awake." Hank agreed, smiling. Suddenly, Tucker felt Hank's familiar hands running over his forehead and his cheeks. "He still has a slight fever, but he'll be okay." He assessed. "Tucker, can you hear me?" Tucker attempted to respond, but the only sound that came out was a series of coughs. "Tucker." Hank sighed, obviously relieved. "It's good to have you back- well, almost back. You gave us quite a scare there, you know. We kept losing you on the operation table, but you've always been a fighter. The bullet-wound was stitched up, and, miraculously, you're going to be okay."

"Did you hear that Tucker? You'll be fine." Libby cheered silently. She placed her hands over Tucker's, and looked hopefully at him, praying that he would be able to recover soon.

"Divya and Evan are fine." Libby added. "The bombs were removed safely, and your father confessed to everything."

"B…B-oris?" Tucker choked out.

"Yeah, he's okay, too." Hank reassured.

"What… What now?" Tucker asked.

"Now, you rest. Everyone's okay, and they'll have a long road to recover just like you."

"All thanks to one wrong turn." Libby muttered under her breath, obviously talking about Marshal Bryant, the reason her boyfriend- her hemophilic boyfriend, nonetheless- was shot and resting in a hospital bed barely-coherent and aware of the real world.

"Dad's going away, right?" Tucker asked flatly. He wasn't stupid. There was only way this was going to play out.

Hank and Libby exchanged concerned glances, wondering if there was some way to delay this conversation.

"Of course, Tucker. He can't hurt anyone anymore…including you," a firm confident voice from behind them said. Boris smiled down at Tucker, who had just managed to open his eyes.. "For the longest time, I thought you were going to die, and I wasn't the only one. We were all scared, Tucker, just like you were. But there's no need to be afraid anymore. Marshal has been arrested on the charges of murder, attempted murder, endangering a child, 'disrupting' an on-going police investigation, and a page-full of other, more minor, charges."

"How long?" Libby asked.

"At the very minimum, Marshal will have 20 years with no parole." Boris replied. "He's lost custody of you, obviously, but the courts are working a deal that allows you to continue living where you are as long as someone checks in on you at least three times a week, preferably more. Since you practically lived on your own beforehand, you're 17 years old, and you have a maid who can keep an eye on you as well as willing adults, the officers I talked to said that there is a very good chance that the deal will go through. Either way, I wouldn't worry about it." Boris added.

"Thanks- Boris, Hank,_ everyone. _You've all helped to make sure that Tucker was okay, and you're both following him through 'til the end. It's… it's nice having someone else care about him, especially since his family never was there for him." Libby stuttered, obviously fighting off tears.

"It's no problem, Libby. I think it's safe to say that there are a lot of people in the Hamptons who are quite fond of Tucker." Boris smiled.

"Are these 'quite fond' people the same ones who will be looking after me until I graduate high school?" Tucker asked.

"I'd have to say 'yes'." Hank nodded as he patted Tucker on the shoulder.

"You should know that you've made the news, and I've received quite a few phone calls. I've already gotten offers too take care of you from Ms. Newberg, Alan Ryder, Jill Casey, and about a dozen more names that I can't hardly even remember. The Hamptons will be crowding you for a while, and if you would like, Libby and yourself can stay with me until the media spectacle calms down a bit. I don't want an answer now; I just want you to know that you have that option." Boris explained.

"Thanks, Boris; I really appreciate that." Tucker nodded.

Just as Boris was about to respond, a knock on the door diverted everyone's attention.

"Hey Tucker, we heard you were awake." Divya said as she walked with a pale Evan who was sitting in a wheel chair.

"Yeah, he just woke up." Libby nodded. "He was out for a long time…"

"Are you feeling better?" Hank whispered to his brother not wanting to interrupt the rest of the group.

"I'll be fine." Evan reassured him brushing off his injuries as inconsequential as he took in the vast array of dangly and beeping equipment surrounding that young patient. "What about Tucker-what happened?"

"No one told you?" Hank asked, obviously surprised.

"Well, I'm sure they did, but I just got up about three hours ago, so don't remember much from the last few hours."

"His dad was going to shoot Divya, but Tucker ran in front of her." Seeing the confused and angry look on his younger brother's face, he continued. "It's a long story; I'll explain it later."

"You better." Evan muttered. He dismissed his brother and wheeled up carefully to Tucker and Libby, who were both on the hospital bed. "Hey guys." He greeted. "Are we feeling better?"

"Yeah, it still hurts a little, but I'll be okay." Tucker said.

"If you need anything, anything at all, just let me or Hank know and we'll take care of you, okay?"

"You're the fifth person who's said that to me today…and yeah, I appreciate that." Tucker smiled.

"All right man," Evan said, finding that he was finally able to smile. He looked around the room to see if anyone was listening to them, and once he was reassured no one was, he scooted in closer to Tucker. "I don't know what went on back there, but from what I've heard, you saved Divya's life. I appreciate that. She's a…fantastic person…. and she doesn't deserve death. What you did back there? It makes you a hero in my book. You willingly and knowingly jeopardized your life for her, and even though you shouldn't have been forced into that situation to begin with, you did a brave, if not even ridiculously dumb thing, and I'm proud of you."

Tucker's eyes diverted down to his hospital gown for a brief second as a tear rolled down his face. He quickly wiped it away and looked back up at Evan. Evan just smiled at the teenager who had been through so much, and he prayed that things would look up for him. He patted Tucker's shoulder as Divya bustled up to wheel him away so Tucker could rest, leaving Libby and him alone.

"He's right, Tucker." She said. "We're all proud of you." Tucker smiled at her and planted a quick kiss on her lips.

"I love you." He whispered.

"I love you too."

Tucker Bryant closed his eyes, knowing that everything would be all right. He pulled up his blanket and nuzzled Libby closer to him. He swallowed his thoughts and his doubts and he shoved them aside. With his heart on his sleeve and his hand intertwined with Libby's, he forced himself to sleep and pretended to be as brave as everyone thought he was.

**A/N: Yes, there will be an epilogue: ). Thnx everyone for reading; we're both glad you stuck with this until the very end!**


	23. Moving On

OWT-Epilogue

Moving On

Three Months Later

"Marshal David Bryant the Fourth, do you understand why you are here today?" the interrogator asked.

"Yes, I shot my son, Tucker Bryant, attempted to frame _Boris_ Kuester von Jurgens-Ratenicz

for the murder of my drug dealer, who I also killed. I also forced Boris, Dr. Hank Lawson, and my son to burn police evidence and help plant new evidence in the process. In the process, I kidnapped two civilians-Divya Katdare and Evan R. Lawson- and held them as hostages and endangered the life of a minor who suffers from hemophilia." Marshal replied, his voice void of all emotions.

"Are you aware that you will be sentenced only 15 years of jail time instead of 20 since you cooperated with the police and gave yourself in?" the woman asked.

"I am aware of that, yes." Marshal nodded.

"You will not be given the option of parole and you will lose custody of your son. You will be given the opportunity to have one visitor a month, and you may visit with one person before we send you to jail. Would you like to wave these rights or partake in them?"

"I'd like to use them."

"Who would you like to talk to?"

"My son, Tucker Bryant."

"Very well." With that, the petite woman stood from her seat and walked out of the door.

On the other side of the interrogation room, Tucker Bryant nervously bounced on his heels. How was he supposed to face him after what he did? How could Tucker forgive his father? Tucker just sighed. He knew that he had to talk to his father. Even if he didn't want to, he had to know the truth.

"Tucker, your father would like to see you now. Do you accept?" the woman who was in charge of interrogations asked.

"Of course, Milly." Tucker nodded. "I'll talk to him."

"Right this way." Milly motioned for Tucker to follow her, and the boy immediately did so. She led him into the room and pointed to the chair he should sit in. Then, she walked toward the corner of the room where a camera was pointed directly at Marshal. She clicked the button that turned the device on and reassured the father and son that they would be given the privacy they were promised. With an understanding nod from the men, she walked out of the room and closed the door.

"Tucker, I need to tell you something." Marshal started.

"And I need you to tell me something too; let's start with the truth." Tucker said. "Milly told me that you murdered your dealer. There's more too that, isn't there?"

"There always is, Tucker." Marshal sighed. "I wasn't alone with the dealer. You know that my dealer didn't have the drugs, and he tried to tell me that I was being followed and wouldn't give me them. I knew he was bluffing, and I was angry about it. I was a junkie, and I needed a fix. So I shot him and stole whatever drugs he did have on him. Well, it turns out he was right. I was being followed."

"By mom." Tucker said hollowly, filling in the blanks.

"She wasn't supposed to be there; she could've gotten hurt. Mary was pregnant with you at the time, and the thought of her getting stuck in the middle of a drug dealer gone wrong scared the hell out of me. I rushed her back into the car, and when she started asking questions, I told her nothing had happened- it was all just a misunderstanding. She knew I was lying, so she turned around on me and started talking to the police. She didn't think I knew about it, but I did eventually find out about it. When I went to approach her about it, she went into labor, and I never got the chance to tell her. She… she died giving birth to you.

"A few months later, the police reopened her case and started digging. They found out about what had happened and where it had taken place, and they were ready to make an arrest. I panicked, and I started making I plan. I would kidnap Divya and Evan and send you, Hank, and Boris out to destroy the evidence and help create new ones. I needed them as leverage, as you know, but I never planned on hurting them until you said you weren't going to the hospital with my plan was to plant Boris' blood on the new evidence and use the rest on you. I was going to say he hurt you when I brought you to the hospital, which would have gotten the police's attention. Then, they would open an investigation against him, which is where they would have found the evidence I created. Boris would have been arrested, I would have been a free man." Marshal explained. "It would have worked, I knew, but I wasn't planning on you standing up to me."

"Did you honestly think I would have let you lie to the police, that I wouldn't figure out the truth?" Tucker asked, his voice low but not cold. "You don't know me very well then."

"I know you are right. I don't know the man that you are." Marshal whispered. Tucker didn't respond; he just kept his head low and let his mind process what his father had done. There were still holes and questions to be asked, but he let it go. There was no need to dwell on the past anymore; it was time to move on. "Please, Tucker, say something."

"What you did was horrible, and I may be an idiot for doing this, but I forgive you. And now, I'm going to do something you've never been able to do."

"Yeah? And what would that be?" Marshal snorted defensively.

"I'm going to walk away, and I'm going to let this go," Tucker stood up, and so did Marshal. Milley and an armed police guard walked into the room at that moment, and Tucker took the opportunity to start walking out. He stopped when he reached the door, though, and he turned back to face his dad. "I'll see you in 15 years." Then, Tucker left.

The police guard escorted Marshal out of the room and into his new 'home'. His cuffs were removed and his door was locked.

"Yeah, I'll see you then." Marshal whispered.

Later that Day

"I assume you're wondering why I brought you here." Boris started.

"I think I know why I'm here." Tucker said from his seat across from Boris. The older man had asked him to come over to his mansion, and Tucker had agreed to without any other explanation. Now, as Boris slid three police files closer to him, he had a feeling he knew why. "This is about my mother, Mary Jules."

"That it is, Tucker." Boris nodded. "I'm assuming Marshal told you that your mother started working as a consultant against him with the police. She told them everything she knew about what had happened, but in all honesty she didn't know much. With the information she gave them and the information the police had all ready received, they managed to make the connection, though.

"One of these police files contains the information Mary knew. The other two, on the other hand, are mandatory information about her that the police acquired all their consultants to give them. One of the files is filled with information strictly about her, and the other one is about her family and friends.

"You should know that I've studied these files quite thoroughly, and that I've learned things about your mother that no one else knew except herself. But it's time for me to put these files away now, and I'd like to pass them on to you."

"But that's not the only reason I'm here, is it?" Tucker asked.

Boris passed the files to Tucker, who put them to the side for the moment. He nodded his head, and then he smiled. Boris reached down underneath the table and brought up a suitcase.

"What's that for?"

"It's for you…if you're willing to accept my offer." Boris let a small silence build between them as he started smiling again. "Tucker, you've accepted my offer to stay as a guest with your girlfriend Libby in my home, but now your father's in jail and you have to handle your father's finances, and that includes his business. Cooperate America is cutthroat, and you're not ready for the challenge yet. You're going to be expected to, though, and I'm here to propose an offer that will ease you into the process."

Boris took a moment to set the suitcase upright before continuing. Then, he asked the question both men had been waiting for.

"Tucker, it would be an honor to have you under my wing and study the ways of business as an heir to a fortune. Would you be my protégé?"

The boy sat stunned. He had hoped for this for a very long time but still he was hesitant. He had been disappointed so many times before. For long seconds he sat gawking at the older man's kind and understanding smile.

Slowly, Tucker mimicked Boris' smile and stood up confidently. He reached for the suitcase that the man had slid closer to him and picked it up.

"It would be my pleasure."

Boris stood opposite of Tucker and extended his hand. Tucker shook it firmly before allowing Boris to lead him back inside. Without another word between the two men, they entered the house and let the door close shut behind them.

The End

"…**YAY! This was so fun to write; we hope you guys liked it! How about one last review? : )…?" **


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